


The Devil Went Down To Greendale

by Steerpike13713



Series: Morningstar Family Values [2]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Canonical Rape/Non-con, Complicated Relationships, Episode: s02e09 Chapter Twenty: The Mephisto Waltz, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Religion, Sabrina had a crush on Miss Wardwell, Trust Issues, because dear god does sabrina have reason for them, i don't make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 55,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steerpike13713/pseuds/Steerpike13713
Summary: Lucifer spent a week in Greendale before returning to LA with his daughter in tow.Wherein the Devil confronts unwanted worshippers, unplanned and unexpected parenthood, even more unexpected cannibalism, and other consequences of having taught Lilith the cheat codes for the universe.
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) & Sabrina Spellman
Series: Morningstar Family Values [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561111
Comments: 144
Kudos: 798





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The rape tag is due to allusions to Zelda's experiences with Father Blackwood in the latter half of season two of CAOS. There is no actual rape in this story.

“So,” Lucifer said, looking at the mine entrance. “The Gates of Hell are in these mines?”

“Yup.”

“And your plan to prevent them from opening was three human teenagers with whatever weapons they could scrounge up, against all the forces of Hell?”

“It wasn’t-” Sabrina blew out a breath. “We were pretty short on options, all right? And it doesn’t matter anyway - the Gates haven’t been opened, the world isn’t going to end...it’s fine.”

“But the plan, if they were, was…?”

“We were going to blow them up!” Sabrina snapped. “We- My ex-boyfriend, his family owns the mines, he was going to try and get a hold of some dynamite…”

Lucifer grinned. “Oh, yes. The Bolshevik muppet solution. That will do the trick against most things on this plane, not sure if it’s  _ quite  _ enough firepower for the literal Gates of Hell. Which are in Massachusetts,” he added, sounding downright revolted. “Why couldn’t  _ they  _ be in California too? It would’ve saved me no end of trouble.”

Sabrina gave him a sideways look and raised an eyebrow. “...feel like explaining that?”

“Not particularly.”

Great. Were all supernatural entities allergic to straight answers. Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Let me rephrase that. I need an explanation. Were you...you said you weren’t planning on ending the world.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what do you need the Gates for?”

Lucifer frowned at her, then looked away. “I needed something. Something I could only find in Hell. And, unfortunately, without my wings or a convenient Hellmouth, there’s only one way down there.”

Sabrina blinked. “Wait- So you actually...You can  _ die _ ?”

Was that what he’d meant, when he’d told Lilith he’d been caught in Hell himself? Not as its ruler, but just another tormented soul. It was a disturbing thought, less for Lucifer’s own sake than for what it meant. If the Dark Lord himself could be caught and tortured in Hell, what hope was there for witches?

“Under very specific circumstances. And it’s not permanent. I still  _ exist _ . I was just...stuck, for a while. Hell has that effect on people. That’s rather the point of the place, now, isn’t it?”

That was...disturbing.

“And- What was so important that you were willing to get tortured in Hell for it?”

“I wasn’t exactly expecting the torture, hellspawn. That was new.”

“But- You don’t want to go back to Hell,” Sabrina nudged him, “You  _ keep  _ saying that you never want to go back to Hell. But you did. It...must’ve been for something pretty important?”

“It was.”

“...you’re not going to tell me what it was?” she prodded.

“A cure.” Lucifer said, and looked away. “So. I’m no expert, you understand, but these mines look remarkably...un-exploded.”

“They go pretty deep,” Sabrina reminded him. “And you can’t see a mine collapse from the surface, most of the time. There was one last year. Harvey’s brother died in it.”

“So we’re going to have to go in.” Lucifer grimaced. “I suppose it’s just as well that these shoes were a dead loss anyway - I hope you appreciate this, hellspawn.”

“Hey, I didn’t  _ ask  _ you to come along!”

Not that she was exactly sorry that he had. It should’ve been worrying, how  _ comfortable  _ Lucifer was to be around. It wasn’t a sensation she’d ever have associated with the Dark Lord, but then, neither was anything else about Lucifer, so that made a twisted kind of sense.

“So...why LA?” she asked, more for the sake of talking about something than because she had any burning curiosity about the answer.

Lucifer shrugged. “I told you, a wise woman once told me that if you want to rebel, move to LA.”

“Somebody in particular?”

“Lady by the name of Misty Canyons.”

And, all right, Sabrina was a virgin...but she knew the contents of Ambrose’s stock of blue films well enough to recognise that name.

“The porn star?”

“Well, aren’t you precocious? Yes, that’s the one.”

Sabrina shrugged. “Ambrose likes her. So...how’d you meet a not-dead porn star, if that was before you moved to LA?”

“Oh, that. I wasn’t permanently stuck in Hell even then, you know. How do you think I met your parents?”

“She summoned you?”

“...not...exactly. I was on Earth anyway - I tried to make time for a few little excursions every century or so - and we...happened to run into each other.” He laughed, quick and sudden. “My brother Amenadiel managed to get himself mistaken for a one of her co-stars. He didn’t figure it out until the rest of the cast started taking his clothes off, and you should have  _ seen  _ the look on his face. I’ve never seen anyone look so terrified and so confused at the same time.”

“Amenadiel...that’s….I mean...he’s an angel, right? I mean, just going off the name…”

“What- Oh, yes. The Firstborn, which he’s never shut up about, even if no-one down here remembers him. Quite sickeningly devoted to Dad’s will.”

Sabrina stared. It was- All right, yes, the Dark Lord was always supposed to be a fallen angel, but...somehow, she’d never stopped to think about that in the context of a family drama. It was...religion. And not a religion she’d been all that invested in. She’d celebrated Yule with her aunties since she was small, and watched them go out for the Lupercalia and the Feast of Feasts every year, leaving Ambrose to babysit Sabrina until she got too old to need supervision, but she’d never lived and breathed it, the way Aunt Zelda did. None of the scriptures had ever said anything about the Dark Lord staying in touch with angels other than the Fallen, after his rebellion.

“...how did you get an  _ angel  _ mistaken for a-”

“It wasn’t my fault! You see, while he was chasing me down to drag me back to Hell, Amenadiel managed to lose this necklace our Father gave him…”

The story got them most of the way into the mines, and he told it well. Sabrina was nearly choking with laughter by the time he’d gotten halfway. It felt good to laugh, after everything. There hadn’t been much to laugh about, recently.

“...so that was it,” Lucifer finished. “I cashed in my favour to get Amenadiel to leave me alone, which worked for at least a couple of years, bought the club, had Maze relieve me of my wings-”

“You still had them then?”

“Well, of course I did, how else was I supposed to get out of Hell? And before you say ‘the Gates’,” Lucifer added, “Please remember that the only place those would bring me out is  _ here _ , and I’m...well, no offence meant, but little New England towns where the only available forms of entertainment all involve goats aren’t exactly where I wanted to spend my time, whenever I managed to slip the leash for a trip up topside.”

“There are things to do in Greendale!” Sabrina protested. “I mean...there’s a movie theatre, and Doctor Cerberus’s bookstore, and Dorian’s, so long as you’re a warlock - they used to have a pretty strict no-witches-allowed rule.”

“Used to?”

“I changed it for them.”

Lucifer’s smirk widened. He looked almost approving. “Well, I think we know which side of the family  _ that  _ came from. But you’ll excuse me if I don’t kick myself for not choosing to come here sooner…”

“Would you have done it, if you’d known about me?”

“Absentee parenting is much more my father’s style than mine, hellspawn. If I’d known about you, I’d have...done things differently.”

It wasn’t much, but Sabrina really wasn’t ready to have this conversation yet, so she let it slide.

She’d started out leading them, but the deeper they went, the less certain of her footing she became, until she caught a glimpse of torchlight, somewhere up ahead.

“We must be close,” she muttered, then called out. “Roz? Harvey? Theo? Are you there?”

For a moment, there was silence, and then.

“Sabrina?” came an answering shout. “Are- Are you okay?”

She couldn’t have repressed the helpless grin that spread across her face at the sound of Theo’s voice if she tried. “Yeah!” she called back. “Yeah- I- It’s over. We won!”

Another, slightly longer pause, and then Harvey’s voice answered her.   
“...if you’re really Sabrina, come into the light.”

That was...smart. Who knew what else there was in these mines - the witch’s cell at the Academy had been full of voices, familiar and unfamiliar alike - and it wasn’t unreasonable to assume she was an illusion...all the same, it stung. 

The tunnel opened out into a bottle cavern, lit by flaming torches, and, at the far end, a pair of great carven gates, fully as tall as the cavern roof. And there, in the centre of the cave, clutching a motley assortment of shotguns and rifles and looking absolutely petrified, were Roz and Harvey and Theo.

“Sabrina!” Roz gasped out. “It’s- It’s really you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Sabrina looked from one face to the next. “Is...has anything happened down here? About...an hour or so ago?”

Roz frowned. “No. It’s been...quiet. I mean, creepy, but...quiet.”

“These...these are the right gates, aren’t they?” Theo asked, glancing up nervously at the great double-wide stone doors.

“It’s what the cunning showed me,” Roz retorted. “And how many sets of gates can there be in one mine?”

“She’s right,” Lucifer agreed, and Sabrina looked around, to see he’d somehow gone from right behind her to right up by the gates, running his fingers over the stonework, his face intent. “These are the right Gates. I recognise the sigils. And...oh. You  _ clever  _ humans.” He’d picked up a sheet of paper from the floor - there were dozens of them, scattered around the gates in a rudimentary half-circle, a sort of barrier. “These would do it. For best results, they’d need to be carved, of course, but even pen and ink will do, if you have enough of them…”

The others were watching Lucifer now as if they were in the presence of an unexpected viper, and Sabrina bit back a groan. She’d hoped that she’d have a bit of time to get her friends used to the idea before she had to spring the ‘so I’m really the Antichrist’ bomb on them. No help for it.

“...Sabrina,” Harvey said slowly. “Who...who is this guy?”

Lucifer caught Sabrina’s eye from across the cavern. Sabrina sighed.

“This...is my biological father,” she admitted. “Lucifer Morningstar.”

There was one shocked second of silence, and then.

“Your  _ what- _ ”

“How did you find out about-”

“Did you say  _ Lucifer _ ? As in  _ the Devil  _ Lucifer?”

Lucifer grinned. “Oh,  _ that  _ is a new one. I don’t normally get people believing me the first time I tell them. Clearly, New England has its advantages…”

Roz stepped back sharply. “He’s...Sabrina. That’s the Devil. Why- Why would you bring the  _ Devil  _ down here-”

“Why, to collect you all, of course!” Lucifer said brightly, with a wide, toothy and entirely unreassuring grin.

Sabrina actually did groan that time. “You couldn’t make that sound a bit less sinister?” she asked. “Guys- I know this sounds...crazy...but it’s over. He doesn’t want the apocalypse either.”

“The  _ Devil _ ...doesn’t want the apocalypse?” Harvey said, disbelieving.

Lucifer shrugged, “Hell is boring,” he said matter-of-factly. “Unbelievably, astonishingly, mind-numbingly boring. When it isn’t unbearably painful, anyway. Why would I want to bring that up here?”

“Apparently the end of the world would interfere with his demanding orgy schedule,” Sabrina put in, only half jokingly.

They gawked at her.

“...I want to believe you, Sabrina,” Theo said awkwardly. “But...you did tell us that the Dark Lord was in Greendale and wanted to open the Gates of Hell…”

“I know. I know - and it’s a long story. I...I hadn’t actually talked to Lucifer yet when I told you that-”

“And what?” Harvey demanded. “Now you have, you believe him? He’s the literal  _ Prince of Lies _ -!”

“I have never told a lie in my life,” Lucifer interrupted, puffing himself up like an angry cat. “And considering that covers most of eternity, that probably puts me one up on the rest of you in the truthfulness stakes.”

“Lucifer, stop. That’s not helping.” Sabrina took a deep breath. “I do- I do believe him. I’m...not sure I  _ trust  _ him,” she admitted, and tried to avoid Lucifer’s eyes, because he had no right to look quite that much like a kicked puppy. “But he- he’s helped me avert this apocalypse. It’s over.”

Theo swallowed. “You’re sure? I mean...is there any way this could just be some kind of trick, or…”

“I’m sure.”

“The same way you were sure you could save Tommy?” Harvey said, his voice hard. “I- I want to trust you, Sabrina, but this is the whole world we’re talking about…”

“Yes, it is,” Lucifer agreed. “The whole world which I happen to like. Of course, if you’d rather stay down here waiting for an invasion that’ll never arrive, then by all means, feel  _ free _ , but if not, I’d say that saving the world deserves some kind of celebration, and I know that there’s one place in this backwater that serves decent alcohol…”

“...we’re underage,” Roz said dazedly.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “As you keep pointing out, I’m the Devil. And this country’s drinking age is ridiculous anyway. You can legally get married before you can legally get drunk. If that isn’t a sign that someone had some very strange priorities, I don’t know what is.”

“Dorian’s doesn’t let mortals in anyway,” Sabrina said, wincing.

“If unwanted worshippers aren’t good for free drinks, what  _ are  _ they good for?”

“And we’ve got to get back to the mortuary - I need to be there when Miss Wardwell wakes up, and my aunties and I still haven’t talked about what we’re going to tell her…”

“What’s Miss Wardwell doing at your house?” Theo asked.

“It’s a long story…”

“She was possessed,” Lucifer added, and then, at the dumbfounded, terrified looks on Sabrina’s friends’ faces: “She got better.”

“...Sabrina,” Harvey managed. “What the  _ hell- _ ?”

Sabrina swallowed. “He turned up outside my house not...not too long after you left,” she explained. “He didn’t know about any of this until I explained about the prophecy.”

“How could the  _ Devil  _ not know-?” Harvey started.

“It’s not as though I’ve got a little desk calendar tucked away somewhere with ‘Armageddon’ circled in red!” Lucifer put in. “As I keep trying to explain, I’m  _ retired _ . If you want the world ended you humans are going to have to do it yourselves.”

Theo frowned at him. “How do you  _ retire  _ from being the Devil?”

“Leaving Hell and not going back seems to be working pretty well so far.”

“It’s a trick, Sabrina!” Harvey said, his voice hard, and levelled the rifle in his hands at Lucifer, who looked right down the barrel and grinned.

“And if it is?” he said silkily. “Either you’re going to shoot a mostly-harmless mental patient, or that gun you’re holding won’t be any use at all. Either of those outcomes appeal to you?”

“I don’t care what you are, you’re not going to hurt Sabrina-”

Lucifer blinked. “Well, of course I’m not,” he said, affronted. “What sort of monster do you think I am, exactly?”

“You know exactly what we know you are!” Harvey snapped.

“Harvey!” Sabrina cut in, “It’s- It’s all right. He...Lucifer isn’t going to do anything to me.”

It was a ridiculous certainty to have - as the whole mess with Miss Wardwell had shown, Sabrina wasn’t the best judge of character, not if she’d been able to write off her favourite teacher getting  _ possessed  _ as just some kind of midlife crisis - but she was certain of it anyway.

“Sabrina,” Roz said shakily. “The Devil...about the only thing our religions agree on is that the Devil lies. He’s lied to you before-”

“That wasn’t him!” Sabrina tried. “Look...I told you, it’s a very long story, and we need to get back to the mortuary. I’ll tell you everything on the way -  _ please _ !”

It was Theo who broke the deadlock first, lowering his gun. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. I...guess you’d know more about this than we would, what with...everything. But if he’s trying to get you to do anything you don’t want to-”

“I would  _ not _ !” Lucifer snapped. “Whatever my Father and his followers might say, there is  _ nothing  _ more important to me than free will. Mine or anyone else’s.”

Sabrina couldn’t quite help the shiver that went through her. It was too much like what Father Blackwood had said, before her Baptism. That had been a lie too. 

“I don’t like this, Sabrina,” Roz said, eyeing Lucifer warily. “If he’s just trying to get us away from the Gates…”

“We can leave the sigils down here,” Sabrina suggested, slightly desperate now. “That way, if they work, the Gates are still sealed. If they don’t...then you three at least won’t be alone against all the powers of Hell.”

Whatever Harvey might think of her efforts to protect him, all of them, however insistent he might be that he could protect himself...this was an army of demons they were talking about. The whole coven couldn’t stand against that, never mind just three mortals, no matter how brave they were.

“Might need a few more of them, to permanently seal this Gate,” Lucifer added, “If we’re sticking with the pen-and-paper version, anyway. Carvings might last a bit longer, but they’re tricky to do…”

“So we can come back later and add them,” Theo said, nodding. “Or - would spray-painting work?”

Lucifer shrugged. “Probably. Not quite as permanent, but less prone to rotting in the damp.”

“Theo, you can’t seriously believe this guy…”

“I...don’t,” Theo admitted. “I believe Sabrina.”

An odd warmth bloomed in Sabrina’s chest. She hadn’t known how much she needed to hear that, before. It wasn’t...she couldn’t blame Harvey and Roz for being suspicious, not after what had happened to Tommy, not after witches had cursed Roz’s family, even if it had been centuries before Sabrina was even thought of. She had tried, so hard, not to blame them for it. But she still sometimes heard it, in the back of her mind, Harvey asking if it was true, if she’d caused Roz’s blindness, Roz’s words, that witches didn’t cure, they cursed, and that was only evil. They’d come through for her, after that. Roz had saved her life from the witch-hunters, and they’d both volunteered to help her find the Gates without hesitation, but even when she knew she was being unfair, she couldn’t quite forget.

“I-  _ Thank you _ ,” she managed, her voice sounding thick and choked even to her own ears. Lucifer, she saw out of the corner of her eye, was watching them now with an odd, pained expression.

Theo’s ears had gone red, but he nodded. “Well, I mean...you’re the expert on all this magic stuff, which…your dad being the actual Devil probably comes under…” he blinked. “So...does this mean your aunts are…”

“No relation,” Lucifer supplied. “They’re perfectly ordinary witches. Well, as ordinary as any witch ever is. I don’t meet terribly many of them, didn’t even in Hell…but, the point is, Edward Spellman, I am not.”

Harvey’s face furrowed up in confusion. “Then how are you…”

“That’s...another long story…” Sabrina said, before Lucifer could launch into another explanation - there were some mental images Sabrina truly did not need - “But...he is. And he doesn’t want the world to end, and it’s  _ fine _ . We’re all fine. Can’t we just...take the win?”

“It’s the end of the freaking world, Sabrina,” Roz hissed, “You can’t just  _ cancel  _ the apocalypse!”

“Can,” Lucifer said, “Did.”

“That....was sort of what we were trying to do here,” Sabrina agreed. “And it worked. We managed to get Gabriel’s horn, and I’m not about to start blowing it, so the Gates aren’t going to open, and we’re going to find some way of getting rid of the horn. It’s all over! Why- Can’t you believe me?”

There was a long, still pause, and then Roz sighed. “Sabrina. I hope to  _ God  _ you know what you’re doing.”

“Can we  _ please  _ not bring my Father into the conversation?” Lucifer muttered. “Because if this apocalypse thing was anyone’s idea, other than the late, unlamented Baphomet’s, it was probably His.”

Roz looked slightly stunned at that, and Sabrina couldn’t blame her. They’d never talked about it much, but Roz was religious, in a quiet sort of way, and even when her faith in her father’s ministry had been waning, her faith in her God - False or not - never had. It had just been one more reason to keep the secret, but now that the Dark Lord was here, and real, and more approachable than Sabrina had ever heard him described even by the most devout…now, that might prove a problem.

“We should get back,” she said hurriedly. “I promise, I’ll explain everything on the way, but we  _ need  _ to get back to the mortuary.”

There was a long, still pause, and then Harvey slowly lowered his gun.

“Lead the way.”

* * *

The explanation took them most of the way back through the woods, not helped by a barrage of questions from all sides, Lucifer included. Harvey and Roz and Theo’s questions were the expected kind - how hadn’t she noticed when Miss Wardwell was possessed, why hadn’t she told Harvey what was happening when she saw the Devil’s claw on his chest, what was Baphomet if he wasn’t the true Dark Lord - but Lucifer asked questions she wasn’t prepared for. He’d been curious about the passion play at the Academy of Unseen Arts, even if he’d wrinkled his nose in distaste when he learnt she’d been playing the role of Lilith opposite Nick as Lucifer himself. He’d side-tracked the whole discussion about the three Plague Kings, first by wanting to know what ‘Top Boy’ at the Academy meant - with no small amount of mockery and double-entendres about the title itself - and then to ask why on Earth she’d wanted the job. That had meant having to admit that she  _ hadn’t _ , not really. She’d just been so mad at Father Blackwood, and at the whole institution of the Church of Night, and she’d wanted to show up one more of their precious traditions for exactly what it was. Except that explaining  _ that  _ had just made Lucifer nearly glow with vicarious smugness at her rebellion, and Sabrina didn’t have a clue what she was meant to do with that.

She’d been nervous about explaining just how she’d seen the claw on Harvey’s chest, too - like Aunt Zelda had said, the Dark Lord had always demanded his novitiates be virginal, and Roz had talked before about not letting her father find out she’d lost her virginity at Bible Camp - but Lucifer had only waved an airy hand when she stalled on that part of the story.

“Far be it from me to police your sexual expression,” he’d said cheerfully, “I’ll reserve the right to see anyone who tries to take advantage of you being fed their own testicles in the deepest pit, but so long as everyone involved is willing and about the right age for you, do what you like.”

And Sabrina had blushed, and stammered out a denial, and he hadn’t even seemed to care, just shrugged and said it was her business, even if he deplored her taste - which,  _ rude _ . But comfortable, too. She’d asked if it was because Harvey was mortal, and he’d said no, it was because he so clearly wasn’t good enough for her, which was also rude, but no worse than anything Aunt Zelda had said, and better than a lot of it.

She’d got as far as the mandrake, and how she’d hoped that, by giving up her powers, she could avert the apocalypse, and just how badly that had backfired, when they broke out of the woods at the far side of the graveyard. The fog was thicker now than it had been, and the lights were on inside the mortuary.

She looked around at her friends. 

“...do you...want to come in?” she asked, very tentatively. “Or- Or should we meet up, later? After my aunts and I have figured out what to do about Miss Wardwell?”

She refused to consider the other possibility - that this had been one step too far, that they wouldn’t want to see her at all.

Roz and Harvey and Theo exchanged glances among themselves.

Harvey swallowed. “No…no offence, Sabrina, but even if you can take care of yourself...I don’t want to leave you alone with the literal Devil.”

“We’re not  _ going  _ to be alone,” Lucifer said irritably. “Unless you hadn’t noticed, the rest of Sabrina’s family are all going to be there too, as is this Miss Wardwell who needs to be dealt with.”

“Lucifer,” Sabrina hissed, “It’s  _ fine _ . I- I’d like them to be there.”

He spread his hands in a mocking, flourishing gesture. “Then, by all means. It  _ is  _ your house, after all.”

Salem was sitting on the steps when they reached the house, and trotted down to wind himself around Sabrina’s legs until she picked him up for a cuddle, burying her face in warm black fur and feeling more than hearing the rumbling purr she got in answer.

Lucifer sighed. “I suppose the cat is non-negotiable?” he said, without much hope.

“Salem’s my familiar,” Sabrina replied, shifting Salem so his paws were against her shoulder. “Where I go, he goes. And he’s saved my life before. I would be dead without him - wouldn’t I, Salem?”

Salem mewed in answer, shifting against her shoulder, and Sabrina couldn’t help smiling down at him.

Lucifer scowled at him, but didn’t say anything.

“Not a cat person?” Sabrina asked innocently.

Lucifer forced a smile, still eyeing Salem as if he were an unexploded bomb and not a loyal goblin currently shaped like an adorable fluffy black cat. “Not remotely, but I suppose I’ll have to live with it.”

“Good. Come on.”

The door was unlocked, and opened easily when Sabrina pushed it, and the hall beyond was too dark, and too quiet.

“Aunties?” she called. “Ambrose?”

“Sabrina?” That was Aunt Hilda’s voice, coming from the living room, and she sounded worried. “In here, my love - be careful when you open the door!”

Sabrina frowned. “Why?” she asked. “What’s going o- Oh.”

She hadn’t been careful opening the door, it had bounced right off someone or other’s legs, one of the other members of the coven whose name Sabrina had never got around to learning. Who was lying, apparently unconscious, on the living room floor, his head propped on a cushion from off the sofa.

He wasn’t the only one - the floor was littered with them, witches and warlocks in various stages of unconsciousness, from feebly stirring and moaning to still and pale as death, and Aunt Hilda going from one to the next, her face drawn and pale enough that her make-up looked almost clownish against the greyish skin of her face.

“What happened?” Sabrina blurted out, looking around in wide-eyed confusion. “Aunt Hilda-”

“I can tell you what happened.” It was Prudence who had spoken - Sabrina hadn’t spotted her for a moment, where she’d been sitting bolt upright between an unconscious Agatha and Dorcas, her face tearstained but still proud and composed, her back perfectly straight as she rose to her feet. “You did. You and my father.”

“What- Prudence, that’s…” Sabrina’s stomach turned over. “This- This wasn’t  _ me _ .”

“Oh, you didn’t do the deed,” Prudence said, her face hard and set and solemn. “But it’s because of you all the same. My father...the High Priest. He couldn’t stand the thought that you enjoyed a greater share of the Dark Lord’s favour than he did. That he would have to serve you, answer to you, bow to you…”

“What- I never asked for  _ any  _ of that-”

“But you had it, nonetheless.” Prudence’s eyes were merciless. “And you know Father Blackwood’s pride. He would not knuckle under to a…’Spellman whore’, I believe was his exact phrase.”

It would have been easier to take if Prudence had been mocking, challenging, needling, her usual self. The words were right, but the tune was wrong - Prudence’s voice was blank, numb, empty of all emotion, like she’d been hollowed out, and Sabrina didn’t like the feeling.

“He had me administer Unholy Communion to the coven,” Prudence went on, her voice not quite shaking, though Sabrina could  _ hear  _ the iron control it took to keep it that way in every syllable. “I didn’t know.” Her voice cracked, and suddenly Prudence was blinking away tears. “I didn’t know what he meant to do…”

Sabrina looked around her at the coven, this bare remnant of them lying half-dead and dying all around her. “He...the Communion,” she said. “He poisoned them?”

“Yes.”

“Like...a kind of Satanist Jonestown?” Harvey asked, ten kinds of confusion and worry there in his voice.

“No, that was a deliberate suicide,” Roz corrected him. “This...this was  _ murder _ .”

“Not just murder.” Lucifer’s voice was terrifyingly level now, and when Sabrina looked around, his eyes were wide, his pupils gone to pinpricks, his eyes so dark they were nearly black and his lips had drawn back from his teeth. “ _ Sacrifice _ . So, what did he claim?” he demanded, rounding on Prudence. “A mass bloodletting to win my favour? Delivering more souls to the Pit in exchange for...what? A place at my side, a higher position, whatever petty rewards he thought I’d grant in gratitude for this  _ abomination _ ? Well, he’s  _ entirely  _ out of luck-”

“It wasn’t,” Prudence interrupted, bringing him up short. “It wasn’t a sacrifice.” She swallowed, and went on. “My father meant...meant to spite the Dark Lord. To rob him of the worshippers who would exalt him and his bride…”

Well,  _ that  _ was a mental image that had only become more revolting after the revelations of the last twenty-four hours. Lucifer, thankfully, seemed to agree, going off the look on his face, which would’ve been almost comical under other circumstances.

Oddly, he seemed to have calmed down slightly, hearing that this had been meant as an insult rather than an offering. One last grand act of spite sounded about Father Blackwood’s style.

“...well, now at least we know what my impostor was doing,” he said, with a poor show of his former cheerfulness. “I really should have waited until I knew before we disposed of him. He died far too quickly, as things stand.”

“I don’t have any complaints about that thing being dead,” Sabrina said firmly, trying not to shudder at the memory of those clawed and twisted hands, those cloven hooves, that great horned head.

Prudence stared at them with great wet eyes. “I-impostor?” she said, and her voice really was trembling now.

“Oh, yes - didn’t anyone say?” Lucifer asked, still in that same bright, brittle voice and flashed a glittering, mirthless grin at the room in general and Prudence in particular. “Lucifer. Morningstar. And you are?”

Prudence swallowed, her eyes widening. “...Dark Lord,” she choked out after a moment, and made to slide to her knees.

Lucifer took a sharp step back. “ _ You _ can cut that out right this minute. I keep  _ telling  _ you people, I don’t want or need your worship, and I wouldn’t know what to do with it if I did! Just- Look, get up, will you?”

Prudence, swallowed, a little shakily, but she rose and met Lucifer’s eyes without a hint of fear.

“So...none of it was true?” she said. “You- You do not intend to raise up Sabrina and...and my sisters were nearly killed, all for a lie?”

Sabrina paused. “...um…” she managed, sneaking a sideways look up at Lucifer. He hadn’t actually said anything about what this ‘Antichrist’ thing really meant, now the apocalypse wasn’t in the cards anymore. “...I’m definitely not marrying him? That would be gross and also pretty illegal, considering we’re...that he’s…”

“That Sabrina is my offspring,” Lucifer supplied. “It’s a very long story, which I have already told at least once, so I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone willing to tell you about it. Now - is this your entire coven?”

“No. It...Sister Zelda and Ambrose did the best they could, but they could only transport so many at a time…” Prudence’s eyes fell on Sabrina. “You...you healed people, after the witch-hunters came. You brought Elspeth back from the dead…”

“I...I did,” Sabrina admitted, her voice coming out high and shrill. “But I don’t- I don’t know if I can do it  _ now _ , that was- that was before. I- I gave up my powers, and I have them back - the witch powers, anyway, but....I don’t know if I can do that.”

“But you can- you can try, can’t you?” That was Aunt Hilda, who was kneeling over one of the unconscious witches, ladling something greenish and astringent into their mouth. 

“I...I guess?”

“Can we help?” Theo spoke up. “I mean...not with the witchcraft, but…”

Aunt Hilda nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, that would be - here, let me just - I need fresh herbs. There’s a list in my grimoire - it should be open at the right page…”

“Right,” Theo said quickly. “Yeah, I’ll just…”

Aunt Hilda beamed exhaustedly at him. “Wonderful. Now, Sabrina, my love, why don’t you start with whoever’s nearest you? I’ve dosed poor Melvin already, but they’ll all be a while recovering, and you can’t do much more damage to anyone at this point. Everyone’s alive, that they got to me, but…”

“What about Ambrose and Aunt Zelda?” Sabrina asked, kneeling down next to Melvin and trying to reach for the power, the way she had the night the witch-hunters had come.

The smile slid off Aunt Hilda’s face. “They volunteered to stay behind. To...to see to the ones we couldn’t get to in time. The least we can do is give them a proper burial.”

Sabrina had known most of the coven only vaguely. She’d been a member for less than a year, and she’d only really been close to Nick...Nick, who had sold her out to Baphomet. The Weird Sisters had wavered between being friendly and wanting her dead since the failure of her Harrowing, but, as Prudence had made so very clear after Ambrose had been imprisoned, they weren’t  _ friends _ . All the same...so many of them dead, and those that remained were mostly kids, not very much older than Sabrina, and not all of those she recognised from the Academy had made it.

Focus, focus, reach for the power. Block out the sounds of voices nearby, of Aunt Hilda spooning potions into mouths and the scrape of the ladle against the cauldron and Theo’s boots clattering on the floorboards as he went for the herbs. Block out all of it, except what she needed to find. She reached down into herself, seeking that strange, bottomless well of power she had found there, the night she had risen from the dead...and found that the well was dry.

She pulled herself out, gasping, scrambling to her feet on suddenly unsteady legs.

“I- I can’t-” The world was spinning around her, and she screwed her eyes shut. “I can’t do it. I can’t-”

Prudence made an impatient noise. “Then you aren’t trying hard enough-”

“It’s not a matter of trying-” Sabrina snapped, putting a hand to her temple, as if that would do something about the way her head was ringing. “It’s-”

“Are you going to faint?” Lucifer asked, eyeing her dubiously.

“What- Of course not, I’ve never fainted in my…” Sabrina blinked as blackness flickered across her vision, her knees feeling like jelly underneath her. “I just- I don’t think I can stand anymore…”

Harvey was the one who caught her, like always, and for a moment it felt so perfectly familiar. Like home. Like the way things had been before her Dark Baptism.

“What’s happening to her?” he demanded, glaring up at Lucifer. “ _ What did you do? _ ”

“I didn’t  _ do  _ anything - it’s more like...apocalypse withdrawal.”

“What?”

“She started manifesting all these powers just recently? In the run-up to the apocalypse, if you remember? That’s  _ why _ she had them. No more apocalypse, no more power, but she’s still trying to draw from the same source, and the battery’s tapped out. That enough of an explanation for you, or do I need to use smaller words?”

Sabrina felt a hand on her face, and leant into it. It was furnace-hot, softer than Harvey’s, uncalloused by labour, and it brushed over her face so gently that she could hardly feel the touch at all.

“‘m still here,” she slurred, blinking. “I just…” she tried to get her feet under her, but her legs wouldn’t support her.

“Ah, witchling! Back with us, I see?”

“I never went away,” Sabrina muttered, leaning heavily against Harvey as she dragged herself up. She blinked around dazedly. “Where’s Roz?”

Harvey jerked his chin towards the kitchen. “She went with Theo. To get the herbs. Sabrina, are you sure you’re…”   
Sabrina nodded, a little too quickly, and made herself dizzy all over again. “Fine. I’m fine. I mean...there’s no point worrying about me when all these people are…” She stopped dead, and looked around. “You...you could heal them, couldn’t you? I mean...if you really are...I could raise the dead back when- before the mandrake, and I’m only…”

Lucifer was already shaking his head. “Can’t help you. I cut off my wings when I came topside, and with them went most of my more impressive abilities. This plane isn’t really made to survive that sort of power, and accidentally destroying the universe in a fit of pique would’ve caused me no end of trouble.”

Sabrina froze. “You...you could actually do that?”

“Not  _ anymore _ , no. As I said, no wings. Anyway, why would I want to? I  _ like  _ Earth. You’ve got music, cars, much better alcohol than anything demons have ever managed to produce…”

“And that’s it?” Harvey demanded, sounding plainly disgusted. “You don’t want the world to end because we’ve got better booze?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I don’t want the world to end because I  _ live  _ here. As does more-or-less everyone else I care about. Is that a good enough reason for you?”

Sabrina managed to get her feet under her and straightened up, still slightly woozy, but not enough that she felt in any danger of toppling over. Not this time, anyway.

“Will you stop it? Prudence- I’m sorry, I can’t-”

Prudence’s composure cracked for a moment, but only a moment, tears glistening in the corners of her great dark eyes. 

“Then what  _ use  _ are you?” she hissed, her voice thick.

Sabrina’s heart twisted and beside her, Lucifer bristled.

“ _ Shockingly _ enough, Sabrina wasn’t put on this earth to be  _ useful _ !”

Prudence’s expression flickered for a moment, fear joining in with grief and guilt and confusion, and Sabrina caught Lucifer’s arm.

“Lucifer- Don’t. She’s...she’s right. None of this would’ve happened if not for me.”

Lucifer frowned down at her. “That doesn’t make it your  _ fault _ , hellspawn.”

“No. It makes it my responsibility.”

“You’re not  _ responsible  _ for what other people choose to do because they’re threatened by you.” Lucifer’s expression was hard. “ _ This _ tragedy is on this Father Blackwood, and I can assure you, he will receive  _ all  _ the punishment he deserves.”

There was Hell in his eyes now, fires dancing in their depths, and Sabrina swallowed and found that, despite everything, she believed him.

“Yes,” Prudence said, and some of the awful, drained, empty sound had gone out of her voice, replaced with iron determination. “He will.”

“Never mind that now,” Aunt Hilda said distractedly. “Sabrina, love, why don’t you go and...and have a bit of a lie down? You nearly collapsed just now, and- and...well, not that you aren’t very talented, but healing...isn’t your strongest suit, now, is it?”

It wasn’t a subject Sabrina had ever taken very much interest in, honestly, except when she’d needed it, or when she’d been using that well of strange power she’d found in herself after her resurrection. It had been conjuration and demonology she had wanted to learn.

“Go on,” Aunt Hilda said, flapping a hand at her. “I know. I  _ know  _ you want to help, but you’re no good to anyone in this state. You’ve done enough for one day.”

It was stupid to flinch at that turn of phrase.  _ You’ve done enough.  _ Enough  _ what?  _ It didn’t feel - any of it - like she’d done much at all. Not enough for what had happened. All the same...she didn’t want to lie down, but she wanted to be here, in this stuffy room thick with the stench of death and nothing she could do to help it, even less.

She wanted to be on her own. She wanted to bury her face in a pillow and sob and scream for a moment. She wanted not to be the only one allowed to go and do that, when the coven needed everyone there was. She wanted-

A lot of things. None of which she was likely to get. At the moment, she’d settle for being out.

“...yeah,” she said. “Yeah. I’ll...I’ll do that.”

* * *

Her room hadn’t changed at all. There was no logical reason why it should, except that it belonged to a slightly different Sabrina Spellman than had woken up in it this morning, and Sabrina still didn’t know what to do about that.

She  _ did  _ feel weak, and drained, and woozy, and even reminding herself that she had  _ killed the Dark Lord _ today wasn’t enough to make that feel any better. She’d felt better than this after  _ literally  _ dying and coming back. But she was too keyed up to sleep, and just lying on the bed staring at the ceiling wouldn’t do any good. She wanted to understand. And what better way than to get out her father’s journals - because Edward Spellman was still her father, in all the ways that mattered, even if she’d never seen his face outside a photograph since before she could remember - to see if there was a single line, a single mention of what Lucifer had claimed happened between him and her parents.

She’d read the thing from cover to cover already, trying to figure out the Acheron Configuration and then just because she’d wanted to feel close to him, and not found anything, but there was a lot she’d only skimmed - deep dives into Satanic theology, the work of designing spells and constructs far more advanced than any first-year Academy student could hope to master - and if she was going to find her answers anywhere, it was going to be there.

There was a disappointing lack of answers.

Her father had met the Dark Lord himself - had, much as Sabrina’s brain revolted at the concept, had  _ sex  _ with him. Group sex. Enthusiastically. In such a way that Lucifer reminisced about how  _ flexible  _ he had been, which... _ no _ \- and it hadn’t...hadn’t changed anything, in his life or in his faith. There was no way of telling, from this journal, when he’d met the Dark Lord at all - Sabrina could roughly estimate the date by counting backwards from her birthday, but there was no change, no shift, no indication that her father had met his god in person and found that he was...Lucifer. Who was snarky, and fussy about his clothes, and couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut to save his life, and very...very human, in every way except for all the ways in which he wasn’t.

She was going through the book again, searching for something, for anything, that would make this all right, which would tell her that her father had had this same crisis and come out the other side, but there was nothing to be found.

“I can help.”

Sabrina dropped the book and whirled, to find Nick standing there, his face twisted up with guilt and confusion that should’ve made her feel better but only made the knot in her stomach twist tighter.

“You’re no longer welcome in this house,  _ Nicholas _ ! Physically  _ or  _ astrally.”

Nick took one cautious step forward. “Sabrina…please forgive me.”

Sabrina shifted her weight, squaring up. If Nick wouldn’t leave on his own, kicking him out would be a very satisfying way of winding down her nerves, and right now, Sabrina wanted that.

“Look,” Nick went on, “It’s not an excuse, but you know how it goes when the Dark Lord asks you for a devotion. You can’t say no.”

“Yes,” Sabrina snapped back. “You can.”

She had. Not forever, but she’d held out as long as she could. Until Salem and Roz and innocent bystanders every which way were being targeted, and she hadn’t had any other choice.

Nick took another step closer, closing the distance between them. “Look. He asked me to show a pretty girl a wicked time, that’s all.”

“Is he why you asked to sit with me at lunch that first day?” Sabrina asked. She couldn’t stop poking at it, at their relationship right back to the first. She’d been so relieved when he asked to sit with her. It had felt like she’d found a friend, when all her dorm-mates at the Academy hated her, and the Weird Sisters had already started her Harrowing.

Nick’s face crumpled again. “No,” he said. “No, the Dark Lord’s ask came later.” He managed a weak smile that faded away before it was properly there. “I sat with you at lunch because of the way you sang in choir class. Do you remember that? You were  _ fearless _ . And I fell hard.”

There were tears in his eyes now, and Sabrina wanted, more than anything, to be able to believe him. Maybe it was even true. But she couldn’t forget the awful, sick lurch in the pit of her stomach when the Dark Lord had summoned Nick out from behind the curtain, and shown her the truth behind her little teenage romance. And maybe- maybe he had liked her from the beginning. He’d still manipulated her. He’d still served the Dark Lord’s agenda. And it still hurt.

“I don’t think I can ever trust you again,” she admitted, in a tiny, broken voice.

Nick’s mouth worked, shaping words that never made it out. He swallowed. “I pray that’s not true. And- And even if it is...I’m not asking for a second chance with you, Sabrina. Not- Not yet. I have to earn that. But the world is ending. And I don’t want it to end any more than you do. Let me help.”

Someone or other - Sabrina forgot who - had said something about that once. ‘Let me help’ was greater, to them, than ‘I love you’. And it wasn’t enough. Sabrina didn’t know anything could ever be enough.

“Well,” she said, “Luckily for you, that won’t be a problem anymore.”

That brought Nick up short. “...what?”

“ _ Lucifer _ is downstairs. Last time I saw him, he’d taken refuge in the kitchen and started drinking Aunt Hilda’s cooking sherry.”

With a great many complaints that there wasn’t any better alcohol in the house - Sabrina wasn’t telling him where Aunt Zelda kept the good stuff - but Lucifer, Sabrina was starting to understand,  _ liked  _ complaining. It gave his mouth something to do when his brain was otherwise occupied.

Nick looked rather like the survivor of one of those cartoon accidents involving an anvil or a grand piano falling on someone’s head. That might actually have been preferable - at least then you could see what had caused it.

“He’s…”

“It’s a long story, but all  _ you  _ need to know is, the apocalypse is off.” Except, of course, that it wasn’t anything like all he needed to know. “And- Something’s happened with the coven that you should know about.”

“With the coven? What happened? And how did you find out about it? You’re as excommunicate as I am, and your aunts aren’t exactly popular with Father Blackwood right now either…”

Sabrina’s hands tightened into fists at her sides. “Because we’re the ones Prudence came to to try and stop it.”

Of course, it needed more explanation than that. What Father Blackwood had done, why there was suddenly no more apocalypse and what Sabrina and Lucifer had done, together, to the false Dark Lord who had made those demands of Nick in the first place.

Nick listened to the whole story in mounting incredulity.

“...and...you believe him? That he really is-”

“I saw his true face, Nick. I  _ know _ .”

She still remembered it, red-raw and scarred and terrible. She knew her Satanic Bible - you could hardly grow up in the same house as Auntie Zee and not know the thing backwards and forwards before you were ten - but for all the mentions of Satan being cast into a lake of boiling sulphur, she’d never stopped to think about what sort of damage that would do. Now, she couldn’t stop picturing it.

Nick’s throat worked through a swallow. “So...everything I did…”

“Wasn’t the Dark Lord’s will.” Sabrina wrinkled her nose. “Actually, so far as I can make out, his will mostly involves being left alone.”

“...I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s true! He...he says he’s retired.”

Nick blinked. He seemed to be trying to figure out what to do with his expression, but ended up only looking vaguely baffled.

“How do you  _ retire  _ from being the Prince of Darkness?”

“I don’t know, but he has. He’s...living in LA, apparently. Running a nightclub and solving mysteries.”

Nick’s expression grew even more dubious. “And...you believe him? I mean...not to knock your judgement or anything, but-”

“It’s a fair question,” Sabrina admitted. “I mean, I trusted  _ you _ .”

The look on his face when she said that should’ve been satisfying. It wasn’t.

She cleared her throat, trying to dispel the awkwardness and failing. “But...yeah, I believe him. I mean...he helped me stop the apocalypse. Or I helped him do it or we helped each other. But either way, apocalypse averted. That’s earned him a little bit of trust.”

Nick looked at her for another long moment, then nodded.

“Okay.”

“...that’s it?”

“You trust him,” Nick reminded her. “And right now, I’ll take your judgement over mine, considering I didn’t even notice the guy whose orders I was following was just some low-level demon. I mean...I’m the demonologist, and  _ I  _ didn’t notice that. My reputation is going to take a nosedive when that gets out.”

Sabrina couldn’t help but laugh at that, which just pissed her off more, because this really shouldn’t be as easy as it was turning out. She shouldn’t let herself fall back into old patterns with him. Not now, when however much she liked him, she couldn’t trust him.

“ _ Trust _ me, I don’t think any of us were expecting Lucifer.” She paused, then added. “I…I asked if I could spend the summer with him.”

That snapped Nick’s head right back up to look her in the eye. “What...why…”

“I don’t know! He’s...biologically, I mean, he’s my  _ dad _ . And now it turns out he doesn’t want the world to end, I just...I need some time away from Greendale.”

Too much had happened here this last school year. Too many certainties of her life had been ripped up by the roots. She needed space more than time, enough distance to start forgetting, so that she could maybe make a start on forgiving. And she didn’t have the first idea how to make any of that sound any less selfish, with the coven devastated and Aunt Zelda still reeling from what Father Blackwood had done to her, even if she’d never show it. 

Nick just nodded. “...fair enough. I mean...I can’t control what you do, but...are you going to come back?”

“I’ll have to come back for school,” Sabrina reminded him. “It’ll be...a vacation. I always wanted to see LA. And I can meet up with Cousin Montgomery and her coven, see what some other branches think of the Church of Night. Or pass on the good news that Satan is on Earth and wants us all to pack it in and stop embarrassing him.”

“Wait, he actually said that?”

Sabrina shrugged. “Close enough. I mean, the one commandment he’s actually given since he turned up was not to worship anything, including him, so…”

“That...doesn’t sound much like the Dark Lord.”

“Yeah,” Sabrina said. “Makes me wonder what else the Church of Night got wrong.”

Of course, to find  _ that  _ out, they had to go back downstairs, where Aunt Zelda and Ambrose had got back from the desecrated church. Nobody appeared to have worked up the nerve to confiscate the cooking sherry yet, and Lucifer had worked his way through most of the bottle.

“Hellspawn! And- company.” Lucifer grinned. “You really  _ do  _ take after me!”

Sabrina pinched the bridge of her nose. “Lucifer, this is Nicholas Scratch. My ex-boyfriend. Emphasis on the ‘ex’. I’m sure you two will find  _ plenty  _ to talk about while I check on Miss Wardwell.”

It was probably spiteful of her to leave Nick there, but just then, Sabrina needed a bit of spite.

Miss Wardwell, when Sabrina looked in on her, was still unconscious, laid out on Aunt Hilda’s unused bed, in the room she and Aunt Zelda used to share, since the living room was chock-a-block with half-dead and unconscious witches. Her skin was cold and clammy when Sabrina lifted her wrist, but the pulse was strong, and her eyes were already moving fitfully behind their lids. They’d need to work out their story soon, or if they would just have to risk the truth.

“Sabrina?” Aunt Zelda’s voice said from behind her. When Sabrina turned, her aunt’s face was the colour of curdled milk, her expression blank as a china doll. It wasn’t a comfortable analogy to think of, and Sabrina’s skin crawled at the memory of the doll in the music-box that Blackwood had used to power his spell.

“How...how are you holding up?” she asked.

Aunt Zelda forced a smile. “I suppose I can hardly complain of the honour of the Dark Lord’s visit, but...Satan help us, the coven…”

“I know, Auntie Zee. What Father Blackwood did - to the coven, to Ambrose, to  _ you  _ most of all-”

“That is overstating the case, Sabrina. Of that list, I think I’m the only one he hasn’t yet attempted to murder-”

“I am not exaggerating! You don’t...you don’t have to pretend-”

“Yes. I do.” Auntie Zee had drawn herself up again, closing up like a fan. “The coven is in shambles, the High Priest has betrayed us all and fled, and the Dark Lord is-”

“Not everything you were hoping for?”

“I...should not venture to hope for anything from our Dark Lord. He is what he is, and we do not question.”

“Why not?” Sabrina demanded. “You were willing to question when you thought he wanted me for a-!”

“Yes, and that was an impostor.”

“And if it hadn’t been?”

Aunt Zelda blinked. “...that hardly signifies. It wasn’t. But that’s beside the point. I am the only leader this coven has left. I can’t afford to show weakness.”

“It’s not  _ weakness _ ! Father Blackwood hurt all of us, Aunt Zelda! But you were trapped alone with him for  _ weeks _ . I can’t begin to imagine what that was like-”

“And I thank Satan for that.”

“-but we’re…” Sabrina stuttered off. She had been going to say ‘we’re here for you’, but of course, she wouldn’t be. She hadn’t talked to her aunts yet, about what she’d asked of Lucifer. It still felt a bit too much like betrayal, even if it was only for the summer. And she didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t- it wasn’t because she wanted to abandon them, but these last few months had been so crazy - she had literally  _ died  _ and come back - and she couldn’t, she couldn’t take much more of this without a break or a breakdown, and at this point she didn’t much care which.

Aunt Zelda was still looking at her like she was trying to puzzle out how that sentence ended, and Sabrina couldn’t think of anything, so she just reached up to put a hand on her aunt’s shoulder, and drew it back hastily when she saw Zelda flinch. She hated it, and she hated Faustus Blackwood for putting fear in her aunt’s eyes, when Aunt Zelda hadn’t been afraid of anything in all the sixteen years Sabrina had known her, and she hated that she was going to add one more worry to the list when she told Aunt Zelda what she was planning.

“You don’t have to deal with it alone,” she said instead, lamely, and watched Aunt Zelda’s face soften.

“Sabrina. Much as I...appreciate...the effort...it is unnecessary, truly. Work is the best antidote to sorrow, and as Faustus is undoubtedly long gone by now, I hardly see that there is any risk of a resurgence.”

That wasn’t what Sabrina had been worried about, but there was no point arguing with Aunt Zelda when she got like this. She’d been in this sort of mood when she’d insisted on going back to the Academy, back to Father Blackwood, despite everything he’d done to her, to keep the rest of the family safe. Sabrina wanted to hug her, didn’t quite dare, until Aunt Zelda put a hand on her shoulder to help guide her down the stairs. She didn’t need it, not really - the dizziness had almost all passed now, replaced by a strange queasiness that might’ve been second cousin to nausea - but it was a comfort all the same.

“What’re we going to tell her?” she asked, looking back into the room where Miss Wardwell lay, still and prone, but it was the stillness of sleep, not death or medical necessity. She’d wake up soon enough, and then they’d need to answer questions.

Aunt Zelda paused to collect herself, her composure cracking, just a little, around the edges. “...traumatic brain injury,” she said after a moment. “Retrograde amnesia. The mortal authorities should be able to take it from there.”

“We’re just going to lie to her?” Sabrina demanded.

“You would prefer to inform your teacher that she was possessed by the Queen of Hell, and played a vital role in both bringing about and averting the apocalypse, in accordance with an ancient prophecy?”

Sabrina deflated. “...no,” she admitted. “I just- She was my favourite teacher. And I didn’t notice that she’d been replaced for months. I just- I don’t want to make things worse.”

“Sabrina…” Aunt Zelda started.

“My friends know! And none of them are- are organising a new witch-burning. And Miss Wardwell knows everything there is to know about Greendale history,  _ including  _ the Greendale Thirteen. We both know enough about this town to know that that takes a  _ high  _ tolerance for weirdness. And- And there’s...what happened with her fiance.”

“To Adam?”

It was amazing how different the same voice could sound. Sabrina wondered yet again how she’d ever assumed the difference was natural.

When she turned around, Miss Wardwell was awkwardly levering herself up on Aunt Hilda’s bed, one hand going to her loose hair - she’d had it pinned up, the last night she’d been herself, Sabrina remembered.

“Miss Wardwell!” Sabrina exclaimed, shrugging off Aunt Zelda’s hand to rush over. “Are you all right? What do you remember?”

Miss Wardwell blinked muzzily up at her. “Remember? I…the movies, we met there…”

“Night of the Living Dead, right?” Sabrina asked, her heart in her throat. “Yeah, I- I thought that was when- Miss Wardwell, that was  _ months  _ ago.”

The look on her face ought to have been funny, except Sabrina had never seen anything less funny in her life. “...what?”

Thankfully, Aunt Zelda chose that moment to step in. “It’s true, I’m afraid,” she said briskly. “Miss Wardwell, the horror special night at the Paramount Cinema was the weekend before Halloween. It’s now April.”

“April, but how- I mean- I don’t remember-”

“I know.” Sabrina swallowed. “You...a lot’s changed, since that night. You’re principal now.”

“What happened to Principal Hawthorne?”   
“He-” Sabrina swallowed. “He died, Miss Wardwell. And- I’m sorry. But Adam...Adam is…”

Miss Wardwell’s expression was almost completely blank now. “He’s dead too, isn’t he?” she said in a near-whisper. “I- I feel it. He’s-”

Sabrina nodded, and Miss Wardwell’s face twisted with grief. 

“How? How did he-”

“I-” Sabrina swallowed. “I don’t know the details. I just- I saw the body.” Well. Pieces of it, anyway. The likeliest explanation was that Lilith had killed him herself, and used his corpse to create the monstrous simulacrum that had attacked Sabrina. Using Miss Wardwell’s body, Miss Wardwell’s hands to do it. But how was Sabrina supposed to say that? “I found the body,” she amended. “I- I’m sorry. It was...a few days ago. We...uh…”

“We found you in the woods near our home,” Aunt Zelda said, in a tone that quelled all questions. “Unconscious. My sister thought it would be best to bring you here to recuperate, though I’m afraid we do have other houseguests just now.”

“Auntie Zee-” Sabrina started warningly.

Miss Wardwell swallowed. “I- I don’t remember any of it. I- I should talk to Doctor Saperstein, this can’t be…”

“Of course.” Aunt Zelda took a step back, and brought out a pack of cigarettes and her holder. “Sabrina, perhaps you would consider walking your teacher home. We would not want to see her become...disoriented...on the way.”

Miss Wardwell shook her head, sitting upright now and swinging her feet, still in Lilith’s high-heeled shoes, off the bed.

“No, no, that’s...quite unnecessary.”

“I insist,” Aunt Zelda said firmly, “You’ve had a head injury, and we all know the woods aren’t safe. Sabrina is quite happy to do it, aren’t you, Sabrina?”

“Sure,” Sabrina said, and even she wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not. “Let me just...check in with Lu- With my father. I left Nick with him, so he should he sufficiently terrorised by now.”

Miss Wardwell blinked. “Your- I’m so sorry, I thought your parents were…”

“So did we all,” Aunt Zelda said heavily. “It’s a family matter. Thank you, though, for your concern.”

Miss Wardwell’s face was a picture of confusion, and Sabrina bit back a groan. Great. She still didn’t know if telling the truth was the right thing or not, or if Miss Wardwell would even believe her. What she  _ did  _ know was that explaining a houseful of half-dead teenagers and the Devil working his way through her aunts’ liquor cabinet was not going to improve the situation by any stretch of the imagination. Still, abandoning Nick at Lucifer’s mercy for any length of time was probably going a bit far, even if she was still furious with him.

* * *

Irritatingly, being at Lucifer’s mercy did not seem to be nearly as terrifying an experience as Sabrina had anticipated. Not that she’d wanted to see Nick  _ tortured _ , but a bit of infernal ‘what are your intentions towards my daughter’-ing might have been nice. As it was, Nick looked...boggled, but much less frightened, when Sabrina put her head around the door, and Lucifer was nearly beaming.

“There you are, witchling!” he said, getting up from the table and crossing over to lean against the doorframe. “Have you figured out what you’re going to tell your teacher yet? You know there is a line between ‘the truth’ and ‘the whole truth’ that may come in useful here…”

“I...Auntie Zee’s already...explained things to her.” Sabrina looked away. “I’m going to walk her home.”

Lucifer brightened. “Well, maybe I’ll join you-”

“No.” Sabrina swallowed. “No. I just- I need some time off right now. From the whole... _ downstairs _ thing.”

It should not have been possible for the Dark Lord to look that much like a kicked puppy. 

Sabrina sighed. “I just- I don’t want to freak her out?”

The kicked-puppy look did not abate.

“Lu-” Sabrina looked back at Miss Wardwell, still in earshot, and bit the bullet. “ _ Dad _ ,” she said, trying to ignore the odd look that swept over Lucifer’s face at the sound of the word. “Please. I’ll- Can’t we talk about this later?”

“Don’t let me stop you, hellspawn,” Lucifer said, his face closing off, all but the eyes, which remained dark and wounded, his voice agonisingly controlled. “By all means, abandon me in a house full of unwanted worshippers…”

“Oh, get over yourself!” Sabrina crossed her arms. “Nobody is going to mob you. Nobody is in a fit state  _ to  _ mob you, except Auntie Zee, and she’s far too proper to try it. I’ll be right back after I’ve dropped Miss Wardwell home and she’s called a doctor about her...you know. Head injury.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows went up. “I see.” He cast a smile over Sabrina’s shoulder at Miss Wardwell. “Nice to meet you, now that you’re feeling...more yourself. Miss Wardwell, was it?”

“I- Yes, that’s right. You...you must be Sabrina’s father. Um...I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

Lucifer’s smile widened. “Lucifer. Morningstar.”

Miss Wardwell went still. “I...ah. I don’t think that’s very funny.”

“What a coincidence, nor do I.” Lucifer looked back at Sabrina. “Well, I’ll see you when you get in, then, unless you’d rather I was gone by then.”

“No!” Sabrina caught his sleeve. “No. I- I don’t want you to go. Not yet. I just...let me process things, okay? I mean...you literally just showed up. I just need to get used to the idea that you’re...here. And not...” Not what? Not the controlling monster that had done everything it could to destroy Sabrina’s life ever since her sixteenth birthday? Not the great beast she’d been taught to worship all her life? Not...anything, really, that Sabrina had come to expect. She couldn’t put all that into one sentence, so she just shrugged again, helpless.

His eyes caught hers. For a second, Sabrina thought he looked...nervous. It should have been a ridiculous thought. It probably would’ve been, if she hadn’t seen him faint once already today.

“...time,” he repeated. “All right, witchling. Your wish is my command- Oh, I’m never saying that again. Makes me sound like a djinni.”

Sabrina couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Don’t worry. I’m sure nobody’s going to get mixed up.”

There was an awkward moment then. If he’d been around all her life, Sabrina thought, would he have hugged her then? It felt like a moment that ought to contain a hug. Except that he was Lucifer Morningstar, the Dark Lord, and she was Sabrina Spellman, unwilling and unwitting Antichrist, and they didn’t have anything like the sort of relationship that would allow for one.

She stepped back instead. “I’ll...see you later,” she said, unavoidably stiff, and turned tail before she could think better of turning her back on the Dark Lord.

Miss Wardwell was stiff and quiet as they left the house, and found Harvey and Roz and Theo waiting on the front porch.

“I- Rosalind, Harvey, Susie…”

“Theo,” Theo corrected. “I- Miss Spellman told us you might have...memory problems, but it’s Theo now. And ‘he’.”

“I- I see…” Miss Wardwell swallowed. “I...seem to have missed a great deal while I was…” she shook her head. “Well, this is very kind of you, Sabrina, but I really don’t think I need an escort-”

“But what if your head starts acting up?” Sabrina pressed. “Or- Or something else happens? We were- We were  _ really  _ worried about you, Miss Wardwell. I know you don’t like students butting into your private life, but...let’s just get you home, and call Doctor Saperstein, so he can see if there’s anything he can do about your memories, or anything else you need to worry about. Please? Just for our peace of mind.”

“Actually,” Harvey said quickly. “We- We’ll be peeling off here. I mean, your aunt doesn’t need any more help, and-”

“I think we could all do with a bit of space right now,” Roz said firmly.

Sabrina nodded, and then, because she couldn’t help herself. “We- We’ll all meet up at Doctor Cerberus’s, though? Later? To celebrate?”

A round of exchanged looks, and then Theo nodded.

“Sure,” he said. “Sure. We’ll...uh. We’ll see you there.”

Of course, regardless of whether her friends were leaving, they still had to follow the same road through the woods. It was an awkward walk.

Miss Wardwell still seemed to be in shock. Sabrina couldn’t blame her. Possession, months of missing memory, and a dead fiance on top of it all. It was a wonder she hadn’t broken down screaming. Yet. But then, Miss Wardwell had always been an intensely private person. Maybe that was why nobody had really noticed how much she’d changed when Lilith had her.

Roz and Harvey and Theo branched off when the road diverged, and honestly it was something of a relief. They couldn’t have spoken freely in front of Miss Wardwell, and right now it felt like they should talk about Hell or not talk at all, because after a day like this, who could even think about anything else?

Except that that left her alone with Miss Wardwell, whom Sabrina hadn’t noticed had been  _ possessed  _ until it was all but spelled out to her. Of everyone in Greendale, Sabrina had the least excuse for that.

“I...will-” Sabrina cut herself off. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “It must be...awful, hearing everything like this.”

“...yes.” Miss Wardwell’s expression was distant. “It...hasn’t really hit me, yet. I suppose it’s wrong of me to hope it never does. That I’ll wake up and find I dozed off during the movie and everything is still…” She shook her head. “No, I expect that’s too much to hope for.” She swallowed. “I’m...sorry, Sabrina, I don’t know why I’m putting all this on you.”

“I don’t mind,” Sabrina said hastily. “Really, I don’t.”

Miss Wardwell stiffened. “That- That is good of you, Sabrina, but I...this is completely inappropriate. You’re still my student, I shouldn’t be-”

Sabrina looked away. “If...if it helps, I probably won’t be finishing out the year at Baxter High.”

Miss Wardwell frowned. “You won’t? Why not?”

“I’ve...had some health issues, since my birthday,” Sabrina lied. “Missed a lot of school and had to catch up at home, and now...I’m going to LA. Until the start of the next school year. To stay with my dad. I’ll be keeping up with my schoolwork, obviously, and the paperwork should all be cleared, but…”

“And what did Principal Hawthorne have to say about-” Miss Wardwell broke off. “Except he didn’t. I’m...principal.” She looked a little pale. “I will admit, that’s not something I ever considered as part of my future. Administrative positions...they aren’t something I ever went out for. But, Sabrina, are you sure? This could affect your entire future-”

“I’m sure.”

Miss Wardwell paused, took a breath, and then. “Well, I...I’m not in a position to say whether that’s possible. I suppose I won’t be for a long while. Whether I am even fit to return to teaching after this…”

“You will be,” Sabrina said, as reassuringly as she could manage. “It’s not like you weren’t a great teacher before this year. And you haven’t forgotten any of your training or anything. You’ll be  _ fine _ .”

“I...thank you, for your confidence, but…” Miss Wardwell offered a brief, apologetic smile, and looked for a moment like she might be about to say something more, before closing her mouth again. “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t...not to a student, I can’t…” she looked around. “You know, I can probably manage from here. I haven’t felt...dizzy or disoriented or anything of that nature since we left your aunts’ house.”

“It’s not much further,” Sabrina offered, “Please. I’d...feel better, knowing you got home safe.”

Miss Wardwell cleared her throat. “That is sweet of you, Sabrina, but I’m a grown woman, and I’ve lived near these woods all my life. I think I can make it from here.”

“A grown woman with a head injury! Miss Wardwell, nobody’s doing this because we think you’re...that you aren’t capable, but you were hurt, and-”

“That’s quite enough, Sabrina.” Miss Wardwell’s voice was higher and more timorous than Lilith’s had been, but it could manage the ring of command still. “I will be fine from here. You’d best get off home now.”

Sabrina didn’t want to, but...arguing, at this point, would not have made things better.

“Okay,” she lied. “Uh...hope you feel...I mean...I hope you recover. From the...you know.”

Miss Wardwell nodded stiffly. “Thank you, Sabrina. And- I do appreciate your concern for me. Really.”

Sabrina set off back down the road a safe distance, then turned, and whispered the words of a glamour charm, before setting off again after Miss Wardwell, blurring from shadow to shadow, tree to tree.

Alone, Miss Wardwell moved faster than she had with Sabrina, hurrying her steps as though she feared something much less benevolent than Sabrina herself might be after her. Sabrina couldn’t even say she was wrong to fear, given what had happened to her that night, after the movies. But, as it turned out, both Miss Wardwell’s and Sabrina’s fears proved quite unfounded. Sabrina watched Miss Wardwell close her front door behind her and, a second later, saw the hall light go on.

Her stomach twisted guiltily.

It was one thing not to have noticed Miss Wardwell’s possession. It was another, to realise now that if she’d liked Miss Wardwell that bit less, Lilith might never had chosen her at all. If anyone else had been Sabrina’s favourite teacher, the best lever to Sabrina’s heart and mind, Miss Wardwell might have been spared entirely. And maybe that meant someone else would have been taken, but even that would’ve been because of her. And how on Earth was Sabrina supposed to deal with that, when her first, guilty response to learning Miss Wardwell was engaged, months ago, had been a desperate hope that the wedding would never happen at all.

She’d realised just how ridiculous that was straight away, of course. Miss Wardwell was her aunts’ age, and not the sort of creep who’d...who would show any interest in...she’d known it was stupid. But she’d thought the thought, all the same.

There came a soft mew from somewhere in the vicinity of her ankles, and when Sabrina looked down, there Salem was.

“Salem,” she hissed, bending down to scoop him up. “What are you doing here? I thought you were back at the mortuary.”

Another meow, longer.

“Yes, I know nothing else is going to attack us with the Dark Lord in the house - he’s what I’m worried abou-”

A sceptical hiss.

“All right, fine. I know he’s not going to try anything. I just-” she sighed. “What am I supposed to do, Salem?”

No answer. Salem leapt down from her arms, and took a few steps, then, when Sabrina failed to follow, looked around at her with large, lamplike green eyes and crooked his tail in her impatiently.

Sabrina snorted. “All right, I’m coming.”

It was getting on towards dark now, as she made her way home through the woods, ignoring the road this time and trusting to Salem’s sense of direction instead. The woods felt different in the dark. She’d walked this way before, for her Dark Baptism, and when the Weird Sisters had led her out to the hanging tree to be Harrowed. She’d been frightened then. She wasn’t now. She knew what the most terrible thing in these woods was, and it was her. What else was there to be afraid of, after that?

The mortuary lights were on when she broke out of the woods at the other side, and Salem leapt onto a tombstone with the self-satisfied air of a cat who felt his work for the evening was done and who felt magnanimous enough, this once, not to ask for extra treats as a reward for such good service.

As Sabrina got closer to the house, though, she saw him. First the point of light from his cigarette, and then the rest. Lucifer was sitting out on the porch steps, a cigarette burning neglected between his fingers.

Sabrina couldn’t account for why, but she stopped at the sight of him, and then mounted the stairs just far enough to sit down beside him, a clear five inches of space between them, but close by all the same.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

He didn’t look at her. “Hello, witchling.”

Sabrina groped for a safe topic of conversation, and, finding none, reverted to small talk.

“Aunt Zelda reclaim the cooking sherry?”

“Ran out.”

“Oh.”

There was a long pause, and then Lucifer coughed.

“Your teacher get home all right?”

Sabrina snorted. “Do you actually care?”

“Not particularly, but you clearly do.”

It wasn’t a reassuring answer, but that was reassuring in itself. If he’d been lying to win her trust, he’d have said yes.

“She’s fine.” Sabrina bit back everything else. “And you?”

“Me?”

Sabrina shrugged, studiedly casual. “I mean...you were asking a lot of questions about my life before, but I still know barely anything about you I didn’t learn from Aunt Zelda’s Satanic Bible when I was a kid.”

“Ah, another Q and A session? Want to learn how Hitler’s being tortured in Hell? Any relatives you have reason to think may be down there? Well, that’s all your relatives, in your case, Dad’s attitude to witches being what it is. Overview of the Nine Circles?”

“What- No!” Sabrina shook her head. “I mean...no offence, but I can learn that any number of ways. I mean...tell me about Los Angeles?”

He was staring at her now in what looked like confusion.

“...tell you...?”

“You have a life there, right? And- Amenadiel, is he still bugging you, or did he go back to Heaven after you got him to agree to let you stay? Or- Any friends? I mean...what do you  _ do  _ with yourself in LA? You said about the nightclub and the crime-fighting, but…nothing specific.”

She wanted the specifics. Specifics would make it real, would make this man sitting next to her into...her estranged father, just come back into her life. Into something halfway normal in the midst of all this crap.

But she didn’t know how to say any of that, so she shrugged, and looked out at the woods. “Never mind. Stupid thing to ask, really.”

“No, no…” Lucifer frowned. “I did agree to answer your questions.”

“You never said that.”

“It was implied. And...that’s all you want to know?”

“Sure.” Sabrina shrugged. “You said you got into mysteries after you met a detective? Tell me about him.”

“Her,” Lucifer corrected. “Chloe. Detective Decker.”

There was an odd note in his voice, and Sabrina cast him a sidelong look. “...sure. Tell me about her. Please,” she added, more tentatively, remembering all at once just how easily this man sitting next to her could destroy everything she loved.

Lucifer stared at her for a long moment, then gave an odd, soft laugh and looked away, out at the woods. “As you wish, hellspawn. It started...well. It started with Delilah. She was the first person I really got to know in LA.”

Sabrina let him talk, only half-listening to a story about a young woman who’d only wanted to be a singer, and how she’d ended up dying in the Devil’s arms outside a piano bar in LA. She looked out at the graveyard, and the pet cemetery beyond it, and, beyond that, the woods, and watched the night roll in.


	2. Chapter 2

It was past midnight before Sabrina got in from Doctor Cerberus’s. By then, even Lucifer had abandoned his post on the front porch, though he’d left a litter of cigarette stubs across the stairs that Aunt Zelda would’ve hexed anyone else for leaving. Apparently, whether or not he actually wanted worship, Lucifer was more than willing to take advantage of god privileges to get away with things.

It irritated her, obscurely, that he  _ could _ . It made it harder to forget what he was, that the same man who’d sat out here with her and told her stories about hijacking a tour bus in an attempt to keep his nightclub from getting demolished, or the overwhelming disappointment of discovering his suspect of the week giving free art lessons to local kids, could end the world with not much more than a snap of his fingers. Which was stupid, she  _ knew  _ it was stupid, it wasn’t as though anyone  _ else  _ could forget. That much had been made obvious over dinner at Doctor Cee’s. 

She hadn’t told anyone, yet, what the favour she’d asked of Lucifer had been. She’d told herself it wasn’t the right time yet, but when was the right time to announce something like that? Harvey and Roz and even Theo, who’d taken the whole thing so much better, they were all still freaked enough by the Devil being real, in Greendale, and also Sabrina’s dad. What they’d say about the announcement that she was considering an extended visit to him at his home, even if it was in LA rather than Pandaemonium, she didn’t want to speculate. And telling the rest of the family here didn’t sound very much easier. When had things flipped around so that the Dark Lord was the easiest person in her life to talk to?

She locked and bolted the front door behind her - nobody was taking any chances now, between the witch-hunters and the chance, however remote, that Father Blackwood would come back to finish the job he’d started - and looked around the hall, to find Ambrose standing at the foot of the stairs, dressed in a heavy red leather coat with a crossbow slung over his shoulder.

“...cousin?” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper in the near-darkness. “I didn’t know-”

“What is it, Ambrose?” Sabrina hissed back, hurrying to meet him. “And why’re you…” she flicked a hand up and down, trying to take in the coat, the crossbow, the set, pained look on Ambrose’s face.

“I...Prudence asked me to go with her,” Ambrose said quietly. “To hunt for Father Blackwood. I- I don’t know if I can let it be.”

Sabrina blinked. “Nobody’s asking you to. Of course you want revenge, we all do. He nearly had you  _ killed- _ ”

“Cousin.” Ambrose caught her hands. “If I hadn’t started to doubt...if I hadn’t had that tarot reading at Doctor Cerberus’s, even...I might have killed  _ you _ . All of you. Because he ordered it. You saw the way the other Judas Boys were by the end. I can only count myself fortunate I began to question before it was too late.”

Sabrina blinked. “...wait, you had a reading there too? What did you see?”

“It...doesn’t matter anymore,” Ambrose said heavily, avoiding her eyes. “It’ll never happen, now. But I...I saw what he might make of me, if I let him. I thought it meant I had to be the one to hunt him down, to make amends for my part in letting him rise so high, but…” his throat worked through a swallow. “But with the Dark Lord under our roof, I can’t- I don’t know if I should go, if it means abandoning you and the aunties to-”

Sabrina hugged him. She couldn’t quite help it. “You’re not abandoning us,” she said, muffled into his chest. She could smell the leather of his coat, the oil from the crossbow, and beneath that the tang of formaldehyde from his work in the mortuary, the mix of embalming fluid and dried herbs that had always meant  _ home  _ to Sabrina. “And you don’t have to make amends for anything. Blackwood used you, just like he did Aunt Zelda. That’s not on you.”

“I...appreciate the sentiment, coz, but...it is.” Ambrose’s nose brushed her hair, his arms coming around her the way they had when she was a little girl and had come running to him with a dead mouse or frog or bat, begging for him to bring it back and make it right again. “I can’t...I can’t let other people take care of this for me. And Prudence...she needs somebody to watch her back.”   
“What about the other Weird Sisters?”

“Not recovered enough to travel, and Prudence didn’t want to wait. Cousin-” Ambrose drew back and shook his head. “I can’t stay behind and let her face her father alone. And I can’t go while you and the aunties might still be in danger-”

“In danger?” Sabrina rolled her eyes. “What  _ from _ ? The apocalypse is off, remember, and I don’t think there’s enough left of those witch-hunters to cause trouble-”

Ambrose gave her a long slow blink. “...you do recall that the Dark Lord is currently asleep in Aunt Hilda’s bedroom?”

“What, Lucifer?” Sabrina scoffed. “He’s fine. Really. I...he asked me to go back to LA with him,” she said, all at a rush, because she needed to tell somebody, even if that wasn’t exactly how it had gone. “Just- Just for a visit,” she added hastily.

Ambrose gaped at her. “...the Dark Lord asked you to go with him, and you think that’s- What- What were you  _ thinking _ ?”

“Come on, Ambrose!” Sabrina snapped. “He helped us stop the apocalypse! That’s...that’s got to earn a  _ little  _ bit of trust, right?”

“Trust- Cousin, do you understand what the Dark Lord  _ is _ ?”

No, not remotely. But she thought- She thought she might be starting to assemble some of the pieces. And what the Dark Lord was...was a man who’d been overcome with fury at the death of a woman who’d wanted to turn her life around. Who’d flinched from worship when it was offered and didn’t like being called Dark Lord because it made him sound like the villain of a bad fantasy novel of the sort Sabrina had never been allowed to read because they ‘cheapened the sacredness of the Dark Lord’s gifts to witchkind’ according to Aunt Zelda. Who’d sat out there with her in the gathering dark and told her stories about a brilliant detective who had somehow managed to recruit the Devil for a sidekick, and then looked three kinds of affronted when she’d referred to him as such outright. None of which made him trustworthy, but all of which made him...human, in every way but all the ways he wasn’t.

“No,” she admitted. “But...he’s my father, Ambrose.”

Ambrose huffed out a breath. “...Blackwood was Prudence’s father,” he reminded her. “How much good did that do her? I- I understand, Sabrina.”

Sabrina startled. He never called her by name. Not since she’d been a tiny little girl toddling around after him. It was always ‘cousin’ or ‘coz’ with them, and she’d liked that. Even when she was small, it had felt a little special. They had any number of cousins, but Sabrina was the only one Ambrose had called that.

“Do you?” she demanded, stung.

Ambrose nodded. “I...I know what it’s like, to want that. I let it blind me to the family I already had. Don’t make my mistakes, cousin.”

“I’m not.” Sabrina protested. “I just- I’m giving him a  _ chance _ , Ambrose. And if it comes down to him or you and the aunties, I know who I’m going to choose. I just...I like him.”

It was an odd sort of admission to make. She liked him. He was funny and sharp and stood on his own dignity far too much for being the most undignified person she’d ever met. And he’d just about glowed with pride to hear her recounting all the things that had ever driven the rest of the family mad. She found herself wondering what he’d have said if he’d been there at her trial. The sudden, mortifying image of him sitting in the front row, filming the whole thing on his phone and calling out encouragement from the sidelines popped into her head fully-formed, and it was all she could do not to laugh.

“You like him,” Ambrose repeated. “Cousin- The one thing the followers of the False God ever got right was that he is the Prince of Lies. Of course you like him. He’s appearing to you in a semblance that is likeable. And it’s a good one, I’m not saying I’m not a little tempted, or wouldn’t be if he wasn’t also...but that’s all it is. How he’s choosing to appear. The second, the  _ second  _ he has what he wants, he’s going to get a lot less friendly. That’s just...how he operates.”

“It wasn’t how Baphomet operated.”

_ He’d  _ been an overbearing asshole right from the start, and he’d only got worse as time went on. Lucifer hadn’t done any of that. And maybe he was just a different, more manipulative flavour of asshole, but...Sabrina couldn’t explain it, but if she was just going to go through life assuming everyone she met was trying to manipulate her, she might as well give up now. Besides. He  _ had  _ helped them stop the apocalypse. She hadn’t been lying about that being worth at least a little bit of trust.

“No.” Ambrose looked very tired. “I...I hope you know what you’re doing, cousin.”

“You could visit?” Sabrina offered. “I mean...once you’ve found Father Blackwood, or if you don’t find anything at first. I mean, Lucifer told me he has a friend who’s a bounty hunter…and also a demon, but you know how to deal with those.”

Ambrose blinked. “He has friends- Oh. Of course. He has  _ friends _ .” He threw up his hands. “...I will come and see you. Just to be sure that he isn’t going to have you under a Caligari spell and doing his evil bidding with a smile on your face. Fool me once and all that. You  _ have  _ told the aunties about this?”

Sabrina squirmed. “Not….not yet. But I’m going to! Just- Give me a bit of time, that’s all. I mean...the world just nearly ended. And I really don’t think the Caligari spell’s his style.”

“You’re going to have to tell them sooner or later,” Ambrose warned, “Preferably  _ before  _ you go jetting off to California in the company of the Prince of Darkness.”

Sabrina snorted. “Did you tell them you were heading off on the vengeance crusade?”

“That is different.  _ I  _ am more than a hundred years old.  _ You’re  _ still in high school.”

“ _ You _ were still at the Academy until the Antipope got killed!”

“Yes, and I shouldn’t have been.” Ambrose’s expression was something odd, half-wistful, half-serious. “I’d outgrown that place long since.”

Sabrina shoved at him. “Come back,” she told him. “You aren’t allowed to die. I already told you, we Spellmans are an endangered species. We can’t afford to lose anyone else.”

Ambrose smiled at her, a little sadly. “I’ll try.” He hugged her again, harder this time. “Be careful, cousin. Or, if you can’t manage that, be clever.”

He was gone before she could come up with a reply to that, the door already clicking closed behind him, and the house felt a little colder without him there.

She had to negotiate sleeping students on the landing - Aunt Hilda had apparently handed out every spare blanket and pillow in the house, and even dug out Sabrina’s old sleeping bag from that one ill-advised camping trip when she was thirteen - and nearly tripped over Elspeth on her way to the stairs. She supposed she could consider herself lucky that nobody had yet raised the question of letting them sleep in her room. It didn’t feel like luck. It felt awful that she was even complaining about this, with most of the coven dead and the Academy not safe to return to, but she was grateful for the privacy all the same.

She had never used to take Father Blackwood terribly seriously. He’d been...small. One small man, a petty provincial high priest tyrannising over one small coven. Sabrina had never even left Greendale, but she’d seen how small he was. She’d assumed, for a while, that that meant he couldn’t be dangerous. That he relied on his Judas Boys, or the power of the Church of Night during his brief stint as Interim Antipope, or deception in order to eke out his victories. She’d underestimated him, and now most of the coven was dead. She hadn’t got on with most of them. The Spellmans hadn’t exactly been popular since Edward Spellman had decided to marry a mortal instead of any of the dozens of witches who’d have married him like a shot, for the title of being the high priest’s lady if nothing else, and Sabrina, the product of that union, had been unpopular even in those quarters where Hilda and Zelda were still received. She’d heard whispers of ‘half-breed’ not quite hidden behind her back, or said outright to her face, and hated them for it. But they’d been her community, for whatever that was worth, and now they were gone, all but the bare dozen now asleep downstairs. She knew some of them, vaguely - Dorcas and Agatha, Mervin and Elspeth, maybe one or two others by sight alone - but most were strangers to her. She’d never really bothered making friends at the Academy, other than Nick. She’d had her friends from Baxter High, and that had been enough for her. She wished, now, that she’d made more of an effort. Which was stupid - Prudence had been right. They’d hated her enough that if she’d screamed for help, that first night in the dorms, it would only have meant twenty girls harrowing her instead of three. But now they were dead, and she wasn’t, and the guilt was gnawing at her, that she couldn’t offhand remember their names.

Salem leapt up onto the bed as she lay down, and curled up at Sabrina’s side, warm and purring and impossibly comforting, and Sabrina buried her fingers in his soft black fur, and tried not to think about the morning.

*

“Good morning, hellspawn!”

Sabrina groaned, rolled over, and pulled a cushion over her head. “Go to Heaven, Ambrose,” she muttered venomously into the pillow, groping around for something relatively soft to throw at him. “Since when are  _ you  _ a morning person?”

“Well,” drawled a voice that was, quite distinctly, not Ambrose. “It does rather come with the job. ‘Morningstar’ is a bit more than just a title, you know.”

Sabrina bolted upright, the events of yesterday all at once flooding back to her. Ambrose was gone. The coven was dead. The apocalypse...had already sort-of happened. And the Dark Lord was standing at the foot of her bed with a laden breakfast tray and a smile of such profound self-satisfaction that she almost wished she  _ had  _ chucked a cushion at him.

“What are you doing in my room!” she demanded, blinking the sleep furiously out of her eyes.

Lucifer beamed at her, offensively cheerful for - she glanced at the alarm clock - half past nine in the morning. On a  _ Sunday _ . Truly, he was evil incarnate.

“Well, I’ve got sixteen years of spoiling my only begotten daughter to make up for. I figured a little brekkie was the least I could do to start off with.” He nodded down at the tray.

There were so many things wrong with that sentence that Sabrina didn’t even know where to start.

“...uh...thanks?” she said awkwardly, accepting the tray and wriggling back to sit upright. It was, irritatingly, a very good breakfast. Scrambled eggs, French toast with nutella, bacon, coffee made just the way she liked it, strong and black and sweetened to within an inch of its life...either an instinctive knowledge of people’s favourite things was a lesser-known supernatural ability of the Dark Lord’s, or he’d cornered one of her aunts to ask about it. Sabrina didn’t know which option horrified her more. “The Devil cooks?” she asked, looking up at him. 

“The Devil does whatever he bloody well likes,” Lucifer retorted. “And since eating is one of the basic pleasures of  _ not  _ being in Hell, I figured I might as well learn. How is it? I asked Hilda what you liked.”

“...it’s fine,” Sabrina said quickly, before she’d had more than a forkful of eggs. Insulting the Devil’s cooking was probably a bad idea. Besides, it was, irritatingly, really good. He spiced his eggs more than Aunt Hilda did - decades of bland British food had left her with odd ideas about seasonings - and they tasted glorious, all heat and rich flavour.

Lucifer seemed to deflate a little. “Just ‘fine’,” he asked, sounding mildly affronted.

Sabrina glared at him. “...it is too early in the morning to expect me to come up with anything better,” she said flatly. “‘Fine’ is a compliment. Take it. Or, you know, smite me or something.”

It was half nine on a Sunday morning, and at least being smote would mean she could just go back to sleep. Granted, a bit more permanently than she’d like, but any form of sleep sounded appealing right now.

“Smiting, hellspawn, is my  _ father’s  _ way of doing things,” Lucifer said, with a derisive little sniff that made it quite clear what he thought of both his father and how his father did things. He was still wearing yesterday’s muddy suit, she saw, though the mud had mostly dried by now, and was flaking off in lumps. One of them flaked off now as she watched, as Lucifer settled himself uninvited at the end of Sabrina’s bed, ignoring Salem’s warning hiss.

“...right.” Sabrina took a gulp of coffee, just to wake herself up enough to come up with something a bit more coherent. It didn’t work very well. She took another long sip, as an excuse not to talk, and cast about the room for something that would break through the awkwardness of this situation. “...avoiding your adoring public?” she settled on at last.

Lucifer grimaced. “Yes, well... _ worshippers _ .” He said it in the same tone that Prudence used for words such as ‘witch-hunters’, or ‘mortals’, or ‘heretics’.

Sabrina snorted. “Yeah, you’ve been pretty clear about that. It’s...going to take some getting used to. I mean, Church of Night lore basically says that if you don’t sign the Book of the Beast, attend Black Mass regularly and generally act like a good little stooge, no more powers. They actually took my aunts’ immortality away for a while after I failed to sign the Book-”

“Nothing to do with me!” Lucifer protested. “I didn’t even know there  _ was  _ a book!”

Sabrina narrowed her eyes. “Then...how did that work, exactly?”

“No idea. Probably magic.”

“That’s not exactly helpful,” Sabrina said, through gritted teeth. Though, really, what else had she been expecting? Maybe Ambrose had been right. Maybe this was all another trick. She ate another forkful of eggs and bacon, but it tasted like ash in her mouth.

“What did you want me to say?” Lucifer threw up his hands, “As I keep telling people, I’ve been retired for six years! Hell isn’t my  _ problem  _ anymore!”

“Well, it’s everyone else’s!” Sabrina snapped. “Do you have any idea how much demonic  _ bullshit  _ this town’s had to deal with since my birthday? Apophis, Batibat, those creepy Plague Kings-”

“ _ Those _ are definitely new.” Lucifer’s expression had gone hard. “There’s only  _ one  _ King of Hell.”

“I thought you said you were out of the job,” Sabrina reminded him, her fingers tightening white-knuckled on the fork. 

“I  _ am _ ! That doesn’t give anyone the right to just walk up and crown themselves King of Hell in my place!”

“I don’t see why not, if  _ you’re  _ not keeping a lid on things!” Sabrina snapped.

Lucifer stared at her with a look like he’d just been slapped, and, all at once, Sabrina remembered just how bad an idea it was to argue with him. Salem had barely survived her quarrel with Baphomet, and he hadn’t even been the true Dark Lord. How much worse would the consequences be, now she’d managed to offend Lucifer himself?

A sensible witch would have bowed and scraped and begged for mercy. Sabrina was not a sensible witch. And she’d been right. Lucifer could rage and storm and demand her grovelling obedience all he liked, if that was what he was going to do, but it would take more than that to bend her. She raised her chin, and didn’t back down.

A little crease formed between Lucifer’s eyebrows. “...well, now Lilith’s in charge down there, that should be the end of these ‘Plague Kings’ and their pretensions.  _ She  _ doesn’t tolerate rivals any more than I did.”

There was a satisfied curl to his smile then, and it reminded her too much of the Dark Lord who had tormented her, his certainty of victory, and how overwhelming that fight had felt. Sabrina looked away, and hated herself for it. It felt too much like a retreat.

“Great. Awesome. Can you get her to agree to a ban on demons running amuck up here? We’ve had one case of possession and a sleep demon in Greendale already, and that is  _ more  _ than enough.”

Lucifer’s head snapped around. “There was  _ supposed  _ to already be one,” he said, his voice absolutely flat. The hairs went up on the back of Sabrina’s neck.

“...there was?”

Lucifer gave her a sharp look. “I don’t tolerate possession,” he said shortly. “From  _ anyone _ . Examples were made. Quite  _ definite  _ examples. I made a Powerpoint presentation about it and everything.”

Sabrina blinked. “...Hell has Powerpoint presentations?”

“Hell has  _ everything _ , witchling, though I’ll admit, computers were a relatively recent addition.”

By the look on his face, Powerpoint presentations had been the least of it, but Sabrina took the out while she had it. She didn’t want to picture what counted as a ‘very definite example’ in a realm of eternal torment. Not that her imagination wasn’t already supplying some horrifying speculations.

She looked down at her breakfast. “I’m...going to have to deal with the coven eventually. Do you think- I mean, I know you haven’t talked to them-” Because Hell forfend that he should have to deal with his own followers. “But...they don’t know, do they? That- That it all happened because of me?”

Lucifer blinked. “...it all happened because of Baphomet. And, I suppose, this Father Blackwood,” he amended.

“No. I mean, they did it, but…if I hadn’t....if I wasn’t...if Baphomet hadn’t needed me, Father Blackwood would never have poisoned the coven.”

“So, in a sense, it’s all  _ my  _ fault. If I accept your line of reasoning, which I don’t.” Lucifer snorted. “You’re only responsible for your own actions, hellspawn. And, I suppose, anything you directly order. Baphomet wanted to force you into a marriage and a throne in Hell. Or Hell on Earth.  _ That  _ was a bit short-sighted of him, since I’d still be up here if his little plan had succeeded, but nobody ever accused Baphomet of being the sharpest knife in the sinner.”

“...you mean ‘drawer’,” Sabrina corrected, automatically. “Sharpest knife in the  _ drawer _ .”

“I  _ really  _ don’t, but that isn’t the point. The point is…” Lucifer sighed. “The point is, if some jumped-up imp from the eighth circle wants to claim the throne of Hell and uses my daughter to do it, that’s hardly your fault, is it? And if that same imp ends up triggering a massacre...well, that’s mostly the fault of the person doing the massacring, and he  _ will  _ be held accountable...but if anyone else is to blame, then it’s Baphomet. Victim-blaming is a sin, hellspawn. Even when the victim is yourself.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “That shouldn’t bother you, then.”

“I  _ punish  _ the guilty, witchling.” Lucifer’s eyes were nearly black now, and for a moment they did not look like Sabrina’s at all. “And I am telling you, you aren’t guilty of what other people do in fear of you. Now. Eat your breakfast.  _ I  _ am going to go and have a word with Lilith.”

Sabrina was half-tempted to leave said breakfast half-eaten just to spite him...but the eggs were  _ really  _ good, and she was suddenly, painfully aware that she’d barely eaten anything all day yesterday, too keyed up on the excitement of it all, and her body was starting to protest its misuse. So she settled for a hand gesture that Aunt Hilda would scold her for if she’d seen it, directed at Lucifer’s retreating back. It was probably a bad idea to flash the bow finger at the Prince of Darkness, but just now, Sabrina couldn’t bring herself to care.

*

Whatever Lucifer’s take on the subject might have been, Sabrina knew the coven blamed her. She could see that in every pair of eyes when she went down to put the tray back and found breakfast already in swing. Aunt Hilda had opened up the dining-room they usually only used for Yule dinner, and that only when they had extended family coming over, and for the first time since Sabrina had known it, the table was packed from head to foot.

“Hi, darling! How did you sleep?” Aunt Hilda asked, bustling through with a laden plate and giving Sabrina a one-armed hug. Sabrina hugged back, as best she could without overbalancing. The result looked like some strange and complicated folk dance and should probably have been set to accordions. 

“I slept fine,” she said quickly. “Listen, I’m going out, can you-”

“You won’t be joining us for breakfast?” Aunt Zelda asked from the far end of the table, gesturing idly with her cigarette-holder.

Sabrina held up the tray. “I’ve...already eaten. I’m just going to put this back in the kitchen and then I’ll head out.”

She didn’t know where she was going, admittedly, but she’d figure that out on the way. There might still be a horror flick showing at the Paramount, or Doctor Cerberus’s might be open - Doctor Cee never could seem to decide whether he’d open on weekends or not. Just...somewhere that she could be free from the pressure of all those eyes. Nobody said a word, but they were watching her. She could see the blame there, but she could see the rest of it, too. She would never be just Sabrina Spellman again, in their eyes. She would always be the Dark Lord’s daughter.

She hated Lucifer a little, for that. 

Her aunts shared a look over Sabrina’s shoulder.

“...well...if that’s what you want, love,” Aunt Hilda said cautiously. “Are you...are you going to meet Roz and Harvey and your other friends?”

Sabrina paused. “...sure,” she lied. She was probably going to meet them again  _ eventually _ , after all. If  _ they  _ could ever look at her the same way again.

She felt eyes on her long after she was out of sight of the table, all the time she was in the house, even as she dumped her dirty plates in the sink and stepped out onto the porch. The feeling didn’t lift until the woods closed in around her, and Sabrina could finally breathe again.

Sabrina hadn’t meant to go anywhere in particular, or she hadn’t thought she had, but she found her feet carrying her along the old rail line almost without her conscious direction until the Academy rose up before her, grey and grim and unprepossessing as it had been on her first day there, after the whole ordeal of her trial. She’d never been comfortable here, not truly. She’d never quite forgotten how unwelcome she was, even during that brief time when she’d been the hero who raised two people from the dead and saved the coven from witch-hunters. But if there were answers to be found anywhere, it was here.

The journal of her father’s that Nick had found for her had been written late in his life, but she’d dated it to only the first year of his and Diana’s marriage, well before Sabrina was born. He might not yet have thought of summoning the Dark Lord as an answer to their infertility. She still didn’t understand it. How he could have met Lucifer - and, though her mind revolted at the thought, slept with him - and gone on as High Priest, his faith unshaken?  _ Lucifer _ , who disdained worship and worshippers alike, who couldn’t take anything seriously, who’d abandoned Hell entirely just out of sheer  _ boredom _ .

Unless Ambrose was right, and that was only the face he’d shown to her. Unless this was all just another trap. She didn’t want to believe it was, but one thing the last few months had shown her was that she couldn’t trust  _ anything  _ anymore, and if it seemed too good to be true, it probably was.

She needed to know for sure, and if she wanted to know for sure, she needed to hear it from the one other person who’d met Lucifer, and not just Baphomet posing as him. With any luck, Edward Spellman wouldn’t have felt the need for a detailed description of the proceedings.

It felt odd, walking up the Academy stairs again and pushing open the door - it didn’t even burn her now, though whether that was due to the coven’s depletion or the change in her, Sabrina didn’t know. She could’ve been going in for another day of classes, except for the stillness.

That illusion dissipated as soon as she entered the main hall. The great goat-headed statue of Baphomet that had dominated the entrance hall for as long as she had known it was gone. In its place…

“Oh,  _ that’s  _ humble,” Sabrina muttered, staring up at a new granite statue of a man in an old-fashioned suit and long robes, a cane in one hand and a book in the other. A woman, bound and naked, knelt at his feet. Even without his head, it wasn’t hard to recognise Faustus Blackwood in this monument to his own ego. And he called  _ Sabrina  _ prideful.

A cursory glance around at the floor found Blackwood’s head, lying a few feet away. Prudence’s work, Sabrina thought. Who else’s? Had Ambrose caught up with her by now? Where were they going? Did they even know where Blackwood might have hidden? She didn’t know. Aunt Zelda had told her little enough about what it had been like to live under Father Blackwood’s new doctrines, but what little she had had been horrifying. 

“Quentin?” she called out softly, into the silence. “Are you there?”

“I’m here, miss.”

Sabrina jumped, and spun around. Quentin was there behind her, looking up at her with great, dark, serious eyes.

“Quentin!” she hissed. “I’m so glad you’re okay! Is- Is there anyone still here? Anyone living, I mean? And are the other ghost children alright?”

“We’re fine, miss. We fled back to our graveyard when the false Dark Lord came.”

Sabrina blinked. “Wait...you  _ knew  _ that Baphomet wasn’t the real Dark Lord?”

“He wasn’t an angel,” Quentin said solemnly. “We know angels. The kind lady was one.”

Sabrina blinked. “...what lady?”

“The lady who came for me, in the witches’ cell. She took the voices away. She wanted me to go with her, up to Heaven, but I wouldn’t go.”

“But witches can’t go to-” Sabrina cut herself off. Quentin had been only a child, ten or twelve at most, when he’d been Harrowed to his death. He hadn’t been Baptised yet. Maybe that was all it took, however little meaning Lucifer might ascribe to it. “I’m so glad you’re all alright,” she said instead, “All of you. But I- I need to know. Is there anyone still here?”

“Only Cassius, miss.”

Sabrina frowned. She’d forgotten Cassius. The Academy’s librarian had been at death’s doorstep for as long as she had known him, and it was quietly known that he no longer attended unholy service. All the same, she would have expected him to be there for Blackwood’s Unholy Communion. Apparently not.

“Thank you, Quentin,” she said quickly. “I need to find something. My father’s journals. I- I need to find out something. Can you distract Cassius, so I can get into the Sanctum?”

Quentin smiled at her. “Of course, miss.”   
“Thank you,” Sabrina breathed, desperately relieved, even as Quentin blurred out of sight, leaving her alone in the hall with the statue. From the floor, Blackwood’s blank eyes were staring at her.

The route to the library was mercifully unchanged, and Sabrina was suddenly, desperately grateful for all those days and weeks of constantly getting lost in the maze of interlocking pentagrams that let her find her way so easily now.

Cassius was nowhere to be seen when Sabrina reached the library. Quentin, as ever, had been as good as his word. The stacks were still and quiet. That ought to have been reassuring. It wasn’t. Her ears were already pricking, listening for the rats in the walls. It was stupid, it was weak, the Plague Kings had never returned since the disastrous competition for the position of Top Boy...but the space between her shoulderblades was itching all the same.

_ The half-witch must not ascend _ , they’d said. Well, she’d ascended, they’d failed...game over, right? No point in killing her to stop her from doing something after it was already done.

She hurried her steps, making for the Sanctum. It was at the dusty back of the library, locked and barred and bolted against ambitious underclassmen who might want to take a peek. Nick hadn’t been kidding about how hard it would be to sneak Sabrina in. But...she was the Antichrist. In theory, the second-most powerful being in two spheres. How hard could it be to open one locked door?

Really, really difficult, it turned out was the answer.

Sabrina had started with trickery - the blood seals on the door hadn’t responded, and she’d burnt a finger for her trouble. Then, she’d tried hellfire. The door had singed, but it hadn’t caught. She was just starting to consider the possibility of a battering-ram when there came a soft pop of displaced air at her shoulder.   
“That won’t work,” said Nick’s voice, somewhere behind her. “The doors are hermetically sealed - even an angel can’t enter without leave.”

Sabrina cursed under her breath. “Who thought that was necessary?” she demanded of the air.

“Can I borrow your knife?”

She scoffed, wheeling to face Nick. “What, like I’m going to trust you behind me with a sharp object after what you did-”

Nick’s face was pale, drawn. He held out his hand. “Then just cut me with it. I think I have an idea.”   
“I didn’t ask for any help from  _ you _ ,  _ Nicholas _ !” Sabrina snapped. She hated to look at him. She hated to be glad of him there.

“Sabrina,” Nick’s voice was low and rough. “I know- I know you can’t forgive me. And that’s...well, it’s not fine, but...I get it. But there’s no way into the Sanctum except this door, and with Blackwood’s sanctions still holding here, my blood might be your only way in. Just...let me do this? Please?”

It made sense. She found she hated that, too.

“What are you even doing here?” she demanded. “Are- Did you  _ follow  _ me?”

“No!” Nick raised his hands, “No, Sabrina, I swear, I just- I...I don’t really have anywhere else to go, you know?”

All the breath went out of her.

Nick shrugged. “My parents died, and then...Amalia cared for me, but…”

“Amalia’s dead,” Sabrina said numbly. Because of her, no less. And she’d made it very clear he wasn’t welcome at the mortuary, which left him...here. Alone, with just Cassius, who never seemed to notice anything that didn’t involve his books. She refused to feel bad for him, but…

But what? What could she say? ‘Just because you broke my heart and I feel like I’ll never trust again, it doesn’t mean you can’t stay with my aunts? We can awkwardly avoid each other’s eyes over breakfast, and take baths at odd hours of the night to be sure that we don’t run into each other on the stairs’. Ridiculous.

“...are you- I mean...how are you coping? On your own here, I mean. I’m guessing the kitchens aren’t still running.”

“They’re not.” Nick shrugged. “Amalia taught me to hunt, and anyone can spit and roast something once it’s caught. It’s kinda nice, actually. Nostalgic.”

Sabrina tried not to picture what sort of childhood would make sitting alone in the cold Academy kitchens, roasting some caught animal on a spit over a lonely fire ‘nostalgic’. She knew the roughest outline - Nick’s parents’ deaths, Amalia, coming to the Academy half-feral, and finding a place for himself there - but the details...he’d never spoken of them to her. And their relationship, she reminded herself, was broken enough now that probably they never would. She didn’t  _ want  _ to know about Nick Scratch’s deprived childhood. It wouldn’t change what he’d done to her.

“So,” Nick said, holding out his hand again. “No strings attached. I won’t even join you if you don’t want me to.”   
She didn’t want him. But...yes, that was it, there were a lot of journals - her father had been a prolific diarist since his schooldays, and he’d been more than a hundred years old when he died - and Nick could at least give her some idea of where to start, even if she didn’t trust him enough to let him help her with the research itself.

“...you can join me if you want to,” she said, as haughtily as she could manage. “I’m looking for my father’s journals.”

Nick blinked. “...your father’s? But I thought-”

“Edward Spellman’s, then!” Sabrina threw up her hands. “But he’s the only person I know of who has  _ met  _ the Dark Lord. The actual Dark Lord, not Baphomet. I need to know what he saw.”

Nick blinked. “...I...thought you trusted him?”

“I am  _ done  _ with trusting blindly,” Sabrina said bitterly. “I need to  _ know _ .”

He’d been kind to her. He’d been nothing  _ but  _ kind to her. But so had a lot of other people. So had Nick. So had Lilith. She’d trusted them both, and all that time they’d been working against her. The only people who’d been honest with her at all were the ones who hated her, who’d wanted to crush her instead of use her. You could trust an enemy to act against you at every turn. What Nick had done, what Lilith had done, what Lucifer might be doing...that was worse. Maybe not in what was done, but in what it did to you. To find yourself unable to trust a friendly outstretched hand, to trust her own  _ father _ , when he turned up and talked about wanting to make up for sixteen years of missed birthdays, for missing her whole life because he’d never known there was anything to miss.

What sort of life would she have had, she caught herself wondering, if he had known from the start?

She slammed the doors on that line of inquiry and locked it. It very likely wouldn’t have made any difference at all, and she wouldn’t want her life changed anyway, wouldn’t want to lose her aunties or Ambrose or Harvey or Roz or Theo. Besides, he’d only left Hell a few years ago, if he was really telling the truth. He’d have been, at best, an occasional visitor in childhood, and she couldn’t imagine him settling in Greendale once he did get out of Hell - he’d said himself he preferred cities, that there were better things in the world, so far as he was concerned, than one sleepy little town in Massachusetts.

“All right,” Nick said quietly. “All right. Sabrina- I really am sorry for what happened. What- What I did. But I can’t- I can’t keep apologising.” He shook his head with a dry little laugh. “You...you’ve been called on too. You know how it goes. We don’t all have your determination to be contrary.”

Sabrina glared at him. “My  _ what _ ?”

“If the Dark Lord told you to go back to Baxter High, spend time with your mortal friends and...I don’t know, sign up for...what do mortal girls do?”

Sabrina shrugged. “We do a lot of things. My friends and I have a discussion group. Or there’s the drama club, I’m a part of that. There’s cheerleading, that’s a thing as well...a couple of sports teams, but they don’t get as much attention as boys’ sports…”

“Right...but if he’d told you to do that, you’d drop out straightaway, run back to the Academy and never speak to your friends again.”

Sabrina bridled. “I would  _ not _ !”

“If he asked you to do it?” Nick met her gaze squarely. “If you thought he was....that he was manipulating you, say, or that he had some plan that required you to be close to them? If the Dark Lord asks you to go somewhere, wild horses won’t drag you. If he forbids you, you’ll run there over broken glass. Possibly barefoot. It’s not...I do admire it. It’s not everyone who has that sort of strength. I don’t. And sometimes I’m glad of that.” He smiled, a little rueful. “I...I’m selfish, you see. The Dark Lord asked me to do what I was hoping I’d get to anyway. So I did it.”

It was nothing he hadn’t said before. And she understood it, she really did. But she couldn’t forgive it.

She pulled away. “Can you open that door or not?” she asked, frosty.

Nick sighed. “Will you trust me with the knife, or do you want to take a stab yourself?” he asked.

Sabrina glared at him, but produced her penknife from deep in her coat pocket. Nick pricked the ball of his thumb, and pressed it to the largest and most central padlock, which clicked open. The bolts and bars sprang back, and the door swung open.

He gave a teasing little mock-bow.

“After you.”

The Sanctum lived up to its name. There were fewer shelves in here, and they were bolted to the walls rather than free-standing. The books too were different. They were bound in strange leathers - faintly hooked scales caught at her skin as she brushed a hand over the back of one volume. Another was bound in strange, pale leather, and Sabrina could swear she saw tattoo-marks there. A third had a whole eye, human and bright blue, set into its spine, which swivelled to face her. A number of heavy texts were chained to their shelves, one or two of them rattling, as if in impatience, where they sat.

“Your father’s journals don’t have a strict subject,” Nick said into the churchlike quiet of the library. “So they’re a bit difficult to place. Here, let me show you-”

They were, it turned out, tucked away in the furthest, darkest corner of the room, and with their plain black bindings, Sabrina knew she could have searched for days and never found them. Had that been Father Blackwood’s work too, to ensure that Edward Spellman’s ideas were kept well away from unformed young minds that might prefer his ideas to Blackwood’s? She would not have put it past him, but then, right now she would believe Blackwood capable of anything.

“Do you know what sort of...what period you’re looking for?” Nick asked.

Sabrina bit her lip. “It...it would be about nine months before I was born?” she offered. Almost exactly, in fact. “So, January, maybe early February that year.”

“The last year of his life,” Nick said quietly. “The last journal.”

Sabrina ran her finger along the row. The journals weren’t numbered, and they filled the shelf from one end to the other, and half another above that. “This one?” she asked, pulling it out.

“Should be,” Nick agreed. “If you’re going to find your answers anywhere, it’ll be there. You know, he got through a book every year? Cover to cover. Never more than one notebook, though. Towards the end of some of them his writing gets pretty cramped to fit it all in.”

“Really?” It was the sort of little idiosyncrasy that people had, but neither of her aunts had ever mentioned it. 

“Oh, yeah. You need a magnifying glass to read it, sometimes. His last journal barely even got started. It went down with him, when your parents’ plane...well, you know the rest.”

Sabrina was already flicking through the pages, looking for any mention of Lucifer. This was, she quickly realised, perhaps not the best searching technique she could have gone for, in a journal of Satanic scholarship. She broke off, and tried to think about it logically. If her father had written anything about that first meeting, it would be early on. January or early February, that sounded about right. Now, if only Edward Spellman had bothered to  _ date  _ his entries, she’d be getting somewhere.

“There’s always bibliomancy?” Nick suggested.

Sabrina huffed. “Fortune-telling?  _ Really _ ?”

“Spellman. I’m surprised at you.” His voice was light, chiding, teasing. “Just because it’s traditional witches’ magic doesn’t mean it’s useless, you know.”

“I know!” Sabrina snapped. “Though please note that the only reason it’s ‘traditional witches’ magic’ is that warlocks like Father Blackwood don’t want to let us do anything else!”

Nick put up his hands. “I’m not...not saying it’s for everyone, but for what you’re trying to do, it might be the quickest way. Let me-”

Sabrina jerked back. “Offence  _ fully  _ intended, but you’ve got a lot of work to do before I’m going to trust any information you give me. I can do the spell on my own.”

The irritating thing was, it was a good idea.

“Who- Who do you think I’m even reporting to, now?” Nick demanded. “You killed the false Dark Lord-”

“I don’t know,  _ Lucifer _ ? It’d fit your pattern!”

Nick made a choky sort of noise. “...yeah, no. I mean- He did ask about you, but I didn’t tell him anything, Sabrina, I  _ swear _ . I wouldn’t do that to you. Not again.”

Sabrina crossed her arms. “You see, it’s the ‘again’ that makes that hard for me to believe.”

“What do you want me to  _ say _ , Sabrina?” Nick snapped. “I made a mistake. I  _ know  _ I did. It’s not like you didn’t give into him too, in the end-”

Sabrina slapped him. Hard. “A mistake?” she demanded. “Forgetting my birthday is a  _ mistake _ . Showing up late for the movies is a  _ mistake _ .  _ You sold me out _ . You helped Baphomet manipulate me. You made me think-” she cut herself off. Her voice was shaking. “You helped bring about the apocalypse,” she said, shaking. “And, unlike me, you knew.”

“No!” Nick was shaking his head. “No. I never knew- I didn’t know what the Dark Lo- what Baphomet wanted until we worked it out together.”

“But you kept reporting to him-”

“There wasn’t exactly time!” Nick raked a hand through his hair. “I was only at Dorian’s when he summoned me because I thought you might need backup.”

Sabrina wished she could believe him. But she’d believed him before, and look where that had got her. She turned away instead, ignoring the part of her that hissed that showing her back to a boy who’d already stabbed her in it was the single stupidest decision she could have made, and stood the notebook on its spine, just the way Aunt Hilda had shown her, when she was a very little girl, still small enough to be excited by the thought of divination.

Divining didn’t take much. No spells, no incantations. Just an investment of power, and a focused mind, and Sabrina always had been single-minded. You could do it with tea-leaves, with cards, with dust if you had to. Bibliomancy, admittedly, was generally not done to find out information that might actually  _ be  _ in the book, but logically that would only increase the chances.

She concentrated, fixed the subject in her mind, closed her eyes, and let the book fall open.

“Huh.”

When she opened her eyes, Nick was looking over her shoulder, quite uninvited, a little crease between his brows. She wanted to snap at him to get away, but then her gaze fell on the page before her.

“‘My prayers have been answered’,” she read. “‘The ritual worked. Now we must trust in the Dark Lord’s wisdom, strange as it may seem’. well,  _ that’s  _ helpful!” She stared up at the ceiling in exasperation. “If this is your idea of a  _ sign- _ ”

“...Satan in Hell,” Nick said softly. “ _ That’s _ the ritual he meant?”

“What?” Sabrina looked down at the notebook. The page it had fallen open to was near the beginning. Was this- It had to be. There were her answers, right there-

Or not. 

It was three bare sentences. One line of text, and then a lengthy monograph on, of all things, Enochian translations. She felt strangely let down. Was that  _ it _ ?

“...he must’ve been working on it for a long time before they actually summoned Lucifer,” she said, more to herself than Nick. That only stood to reason - it had been hard enough work compelling the three Plague Kings to appear during the conjuring challenge, even with an existing tie. Sabrina couldn’t imagine how much study it had taken to find a way of summoning  _ Lucifer _ . Even if it didn’t seem like they’d gone to the trouble of actually  _ binding  _ him, that was more than any other high priest Sabrina had ever heard of had ever dared to attempt. She reached up, fumbling, for the last few notebooks before that. This must have taken years of work to find, if she could just look- But she’d only been studying conjuring for a year, and she would die before she asked Nick for help. She’d do the research herself, or- maybe he’d been more explicit. Or, if it came to it, Aunt Zelda could help her.

She bundled up the last five books on the shelf - her father couldn’t have spent longer than that looking, he and her mother had only been married that long when they died - and turned to go.

“...thanks,” she said grudgingly. “For the lock.”

Maybe Nick shrugged, or made some gesture. She didn’t see it. He didn’t speak. When she looked back, to say she knew not what, he was gone.

*

Before she was halfway back to the mortuary, Sabrina had started to seriously regret not bringing a bag with her. Tramping through the Greendale woods was bad enough under normal circumstances, but doing it while carrying a stack of occult books was so much worse. Even with the rest of the coven straining the mortuary to its seams, Sabrina was glad to reach home. 

She became markedly less glad when she saw Dorcas and Agatha sitting at the kitchen table, looking rather at loose ends without Prudence there to give the orders. Still, she hadn’t fought this hard to be driven out of her own kitchen by two-thirds of the Weird Sisters, when she’d never run from them at full strength. She sat down opposite them, thumping down the stack of books, and picked the topmost volume - the last Edward Spellman had written - off to begin combing through for anything that might point her in the right direction.

Unfortunately, Edward Spellman had apparently been very easily distracted where his studies were concerned, or had seen no particular problem with documenting a dozen different projects in the same journal, with nothing to mark the differences between them. He skipped from Satanic scholarship - nothing there to indicate he’d known a Lucifer anything like the one that was now the Spellmans’ houseguest - to theories of ceremonial magic, to brief one-line allusions to his own life. Aids to memory, Sabrina thought, more than anything. Reminders to buy flowers for a wedding anniversary, or an allusion to an argument with Aunt Zelda that had clearly kept bothering him for some days after it was over. Or possibly had lasted several days. It was  _ interesting _ , she supposed, but it didn’t exactly make for the easiest research material.

“So, Sabrina,” Agatha said, breaking the silence, as Sabrina was puzzling her way through a series of advanced summoning circles and their requirements. “Does the Dark Lord  _ really  _ like for you to call him ‘daddy’?”

Sabrina recoiled, knocking over her stack of books.

“What-? How did you-!”

Dorcas giggled. “It  _ is  _ true!” she said, eyes wide in delighted malice.

“Is that why Nick dumped you?” Agatha prodded, her own eyes glittering. “I can see why. Not even a warlock-slut like Nick would want to  _ share  _ his girlfriend with the Dark Lord.”

Sabrina nearly gagged. “Okay, whatever it is you’re inferring, you shouldn’t be. He’s my  _ father _ .  _ Biologically _ . That’s not- That is  _ revolting _ , where did you even get the idea that this was-”

“Well, it’s all over the Academy. What’s left of it.” Agatha’s smile widened.

“We all heard you’d had the Dark Lord in your bedroom this morning,” the two of them said, in perfect unison. 

“He made me breakfast! It was- He’s just trying to be-”  _ Nice? _ Who would believe that?  _ Sabrina  _ didn’t even believe that, not really.

“I’m sure he is,” Agatha agreed, innuendo dripping from every word, making Sabrina’s skin crawl. “No incest taboos in Hell, after all. Father Blackwood was planning to add that to his tenets soon enough.”

Sabrina’s temper flared. She slammed both hands down on the table, rising to her feet.

“Let me make one thing clear,” she said, as calmly as she could manage. Growling or shouting wouldn’t work, not with the Weird Sisters. “Whatever Lucifer’s agenda here is, I’m only giving him a chance because he’s apparently my biological father. That makes me the Antichrist and, as the Antichrist, I am telling you that if you breathe one  _ word  _ of these speculations to  _ anyone _ , I will make what happened at the hanging tree look like a children’s game,  _ do you understand me? _ ”

Dorcas’s hand went involuntarily to her throat. Agatha gave no such obvious signs of fear, but Sabrina could see her eyes flick to Sabrina’s hands and back again. It was enough.

Sabrina smiled, thin and sharp, and bent to pick up her books. “I’m sure you girls will be enough to spread the news to the rest of the Academy. I don’t want to hear this again.”

Dorcas managed a jerky little nod. Agatha was quite still, staring, until Dorcas timidly tugged her wrist, pulling her away, and they disappeared out of the kitchen without another word.

Sabrina sat down slowly. Her hands were still shaking as she released her death-grip on the edge of the kitchen table.

It wasn’t true. Lucifer wasn’t Baphomet. She wasn’t- He wasn’t- She wouldn’t  _ let  _ herself be forced. Not into anything, and not into this. If Lucifer didn’t like it...well, she’d started at the Academy looking for a way to bind and banish the Dark Lord. She wasn’t going to give up now he’d shown up, not if it proved necessary. Her hands still wouldn’t stop shaking. She nearly dropped the first book she reached for, they were shaking so hard, and she couldn’t read a line, couldn’t focus on the words long enough to get through a sentence. Something about Enochian glyphs, she thought, but she couldn’t have told more at gunpoint. She couldn’t stop thinking of Baphomet’s claws on her, the lewd edge of his voice as he’d laid out his plans. She’d still thought he was her father then, and he’d certainly meant to pass her off as his. It didn’t matter. Practically the first thing Lucifer had said to her was that  _ he  _ wasn’t that sort of creep, she had no fear there, but that people even  _ thought  _ it-

“Sabrina?”

It was Aunt Hilda’s voice, and when Sabrina looked up, startled, to see her standing in the doorway, looking tired.

“Aunt Hilda?”

Aunt Hilda smiled at her, a little awkwardly. “What’re you doing in here? I thought you were out with your mortal friends.”

Sabrina looked away. “...yeah, that didn’t...Aunt Hilda? Did- Did my father...say anything, after…”

“Oh, darling.” Aunt Hilda hurried over, and settled in the chair next to Sabrina, putting an arm around her shoulder. “Is that what all this is about?”

“What else is it going to be about?” Sabrina nearly wailed. “I don’t- I can’t  _ trust  _ him. Not after Lilith. Not after-” she couldn’t even say the name. “I need evidence. Somewhere in all of this, there’s got to be  _ something- _ ”

“Well,” Aunt Hilda said, her arm tightening a little around Sabrina’s shoulders. “You could ask me.”

“ _ You _ ?”

“Yes, me! I’ve met him too, before yesterday. And I imagine there was a bit more actual conversation involved!” She blushed a little on that last bit - same old Aunt Hilda - but Sabrina was too shocked to pay attention to it.

“...you’ve met him before? You- When?”

“On the ship over from Southampton? I was moving back to Greendale, since Ambrose was old enough to manage without me and...well, your dad- Edward, I mean, not Lucifer. He bought my ticket for me and...well, that was that.”

That took some parsing. “...did you want to move back?”

“I...you know, that’s...well. It never really came up.” Aunt Hilda sat back, looking faintly bemused. “I mean, I was only in England for Ambrose in the first place. I moved there straight out of the Academy, you know. Well, dropped out, actually.”

“You  _ dropped out _ ? You’re  _ allowed  _ to drop out?”

Aunt Hilda shrugged, a little awkwardly. “Yes, well...I was only studying herbs and healing. You know, the homelier magics. Don’t need an Academy education for that, and the poor little mite’s parents had just died. Someone needed to look after him, poor lamb. Nobody really cared if  _ I  _ left a bit early to go and look after Ambrose, but Mother had ambitions for Edward. And for Zelds as well, of course. But- don’t distract me. I...I never did tell you about that trip, did I?”

“I  _ know  _ you were on the Titanic, Aunt Hilda,” Sabrina said dryly. Watching the movie with Aunt Hilda was a quick and easy way to send her into floods of tears. She always cried when the shipbuilder talked about how he should’ve built a stronger ship, even if she’d managed to stay dry-eyed that long. She’d never  _ talked  _ about it, but Aunt Zelda had made enough snide jabs over the years that Sabrina had got the general picture.

Aunt Hilda smiled, a little awkwardly. “Yes, I was, yes. It...It really was the most beautiful ship. I was only in second-class, but even that was so much nicer than any way I’d ever travelled before. I couldn’t believe it, when-” she broke off. “Well, no-one could. Except for poor Mr Andrews. I’d have survived anyway - everyone knows that witches float - but he made sure I got to a lifeboat anyway. Then he...he went down with the ship. He had a wife, a little girl…” Aunt Hilda knotted her fingers together, her face drawn. “But...but that wasn’t what you were asking about, was it?”

“Aunt Hilda,” Sabrina said, as sympathetically as she could, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. She’d never heard even this much of the story. 

“I’m fine,” Aunt Hilda said quickly. “Water under the bridge! I just…I met him on that voyage, you know? I’d…” she giggled. “I’d snuck into a first-class party, actually. I could do that. One little spell for my dress and I was in. The old Cinderella charm, you know?”

Sabrina could picture it. She’d seen pictures of Aunt Hilda when she’d been young, all ringlets and shy smiles. They hadn’t had photography then, but there were a few little miniature portraits that had belonged to Sabrina’s grandmother, of Hilda and Zelda and her father- Edward.

“....you...met the Dark Lord at a party?” Sabrina said, a little numbly. “Is that- Is that why-”

Because Aunt Hilda...she’d never been exactly  _ convinced _ . She’d gone to weekly Black Mass, because it wasn’t worth the fight with Aunt Zelda not to, but she’d attended Sabrina’s Catholic baptism for Diana, and witnessed it, and she’d barely reacted to getting excommunicated at all. It was- It was what Sabrina might expect, of someone who’d met their Dark Lord in person and found out he was, or at least appeared to be...Lucifer. That would shake anyone.

“Well, I mean, I didn’t  _ know  _ he was the Dark Lord then,” Aunt Hilda said, smiling down at her hands. “He was just...someone I met. Saw me hiding at the back of the room and came over to say hello. Then he just...stuck around, for the rest of the evening. I never caught his name, but...well. He seemed to like me.”

“And he wasn’t...you didn’t think he was..tricking or...manipulating you into...anything?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I mean...he got me a dance? Not with him, with one of the other men there…” She smiled, a little sadly. “I hadn’t had the nerve before. I mean, I know, I  _ know  _ it could be a trick, but...what could the Dark Lord have to gain from showing one little wallflower a good time? He was just...five minutes talking to him, and he was like my best friend. It felt like I could tell him anything...I mean, I didn’t,” she added, “But it  _ felt  _ like I could. And it’s not…” she shook her head. “It’s not for me to say ‘trust him’ or ‘don’t trust him’, but...he doesn’t  _ feel  _ like a liar. And I’m not just saying that because he read my novel,” she added. “But I’m- I’m pretty good at people, you know that, Sabrina…”

“I know.”

“And...well. It’s not...not like you can’t take it back, if he really is trying anything, but I really don’t think he is. I think he just wants to get to know you. You don’t have to let him,” she added, “But...well. There’s worse people to have on your side. And I think he- he  _ is  _ on your side, if he’s on anyone’s.”

On her side...that was harder to believe than ‘friendly’, but...Aunt Hilda did know people. She’d always been good at that sort of thing. Better at it than Sabrina, who seemed to offend people left, right and centre. She was always too blunt, too brash, too loud for her teachers. Harvey and Roz always joked that they’d grown up tall so they could hold back their tiny friends from fighting everyone who even looked at them funny. Aunt Hilda wasn’t like that. She could make a statue get down from its pedestal to cry on her shoulder and tell her what it  _ really  _ thought about pigeons.

“You wrote a novel?” she asked, instead of saying any of that, because she  _ had  _ heard that right.

Aunt Hilda looked suddenly squirrelly. “...you can’t tell your Aunt Zelda,” she said hurriedly. “I was…I was in rather a snit with her when I started it, and...well…you know how she can be.”

Sabrina winced. “She’s in it, isn’t she?”

Shamefaced, Aunt Hilda nodded.

“I won’t tell her if you won’t. Has- Have you let anyone else see it?”

“Doctor Cee said something about...talking to a few old friends.” Aunt Hilda flashed a nervous smile. “He says it’s good enough to be published.”

It couldn’t be worse than half the romances Aunt Hilda had read down the years, Sabrina reflected.

“That’s cool,” she said instead. “So...as your niece, will I get a free copy?”

Aunt Hilda flicked a dish towel at her, “As my niece, I’d hope you’d buy one to support your aunt. Doctor Cee says he’ll stock them when- if it does get published. Lucifer...found the manuscript. Under my bed, because you know he’s staying in my room. I don’t  _ mind  _ sharing with Zelds again. He gave it a bit of a read-through. He had a few suggestions to make about the...um...the more intimate scenes, but…”

“You can just say ‘sex scenes’, Aunt Hilda.”

Aunt Hilda gave a sheepish little grin. “...yes, those. Not sure I agree with all of them, but…”

“I’ll have to see for myself when it comes out, I guess.” If she could manage more than skimming a sex scene she knew had been written by her  _ aunt _ , anyway. “So. Where is he?”

She had some questions for her father, after all this. 

“Up in the attic, I think. Said something about not wanting to be bothered with questions.”

“Well, he’s going to have to be bothered with mine.”

Aunt Hilda shrugged, “Well, you know what you’re doing, I suppose. Say- Do you think I should make my vegetable pie for tonight? Zelda said I shouldn’t, that it was bad enough not being able to offer child-flesh with the coven so weak, but the Dark Lord’s an avowed carnivore, so we should at least find something suitable-”

“I’m sure your vegetable pie will be fine, Aunt Hilda,” Sabrina said reassuringly. “I’ve never met anyone who  _ didn’t  _ like it after the first slice.”

“You tell that to your Aunt Zelda,” Aunt Hilda grumbled. “I swear, she acts like I can’t even make dinner without doing something wrong...”

“She’s just stressed.”

“So am I stressed! You don’t catch me snapping at everyone who comes near me.” Aunt Hilda scowled down at her hands. “I just- Never mind.” She gave a very forced smile. “I’ll get over it, I always do. Now- Didn’t you have something you were going to do, love?”

It was as near to a blunt dismissal as Aunt Hilda was ever going to give. Sabrina got up, leaving the books on the table.

“...yeah,” she said, “Yeah, I should…”

She didn’t run into anyone else she knew on the way up. Which was not to say she didn’t run into anyone. Her classmates scattered at the sight of her, and Sabrina couldn’t blame them. What sort of stories had already spread through what was left of the Academy? And how much of the truth would they believe?

The attics seemed to stretch a lot further than the dimensions of the house would account for. That was probably a good thing, with the amount of junk the Spellmans had managed to accumulate down the centuries. Sabrina could swear that bulky piece of furniture under the dust-cover was an actual  _ cannon _ , and there were stacks of ancient hobby-horses, steamer trunks, old coats and walking-sticks, heaped carelessly like a low-rent Cave of Wonders.

She found Lucifer right at the back. He was sitting on one of the old steamer trunks, his phone in his hand, staring down at it with an odd expression. He didn’t seem to hear her approaching until she was nearly on top of him, and she caught a glimpse of a picture of a blonde woman and his finger hovering over the ‘call’ button before he caught sight of her.

“Hellspawn!” he said, brightening obnoxiously, his phone disappearing into a pocket. “I heard you’d gone out.”

“I came back.” Sabrina crossed her arms. “You know what they’re saying down there, don’t you?”

“That I’m much more appealing than your previous Dark Lord and you should really start getting handsomer statues? Because while I can’t disagree, I’m really not interested in the job, so-”

“No, I mean about…” Sabrina swallowed. She didn’t like to think about it. She wanted even less to have to talk about it. “...never mind. Just- I’m trying to stamp down on it, but I don’t know how well it’s going to work.”

“Well, it’s clearly got you ruffled.” Lucifer looked her up and down. “I did say I don’t do smiting, but I’d be happy to put the fear of Dad into some of them for you, if you want.”

Sabrina snorted. “Yeah, that…” she shook her head. “Hopefully that won’t be necessary. I can terrorise my classmates for myself.”

Lucifer grinned. It was not at all a reassuring expression. “How do you manage that?” he asked, leaning forwards. “Not that I’m doubting your abilities, but…”

Sabrina thought of the hanging tree, of turning the rope her tormentors had meant for her against them, of the visceral satisfaction in watching them twist in mid-air, fighting for breath, after all they’d done to her. 

“They saw me do something scary once,” she said flatly.

Lucifer’s mouth twitched up. “Just the once? People see me do scary things all the time and the awe never seems to last.”

“Would you want it to?” Sabrina prodded. It didn’t seem likely. A man who spurned worship didn’t seem the sort to find awe much more appealing.

Lucifer considered it. “...you make a good point, witchling. ‘Awe’ tends to leave people raving, screaming and battering their heads into walls on most occasions…”

“All at the same time, or…”

“It’s been known to happen.”

Sabrina wrenched her mind away from that mental image, because it appealed just a little too much. “You talk to Lilith?” she asked instead.

“I did.”

Sabrina waited for him to say anything else, but he didn’t.

“... _ about _ ?” she prodded.

“How  _ very unhappy _ , significant pause, I would be if I had to go back downstairs again over any reports of demonic possession that might reach me. And who would be first in line to have an example made of them in that event.”

It was hard to picture him intimidating Lilith. Sabrina had never seen her confidence shaken for a moment, not as Miss Wardwell and not in any other guise Sabrina had seen her in. And Lucifer felt more like an oversized puppy than the Lord of Hell. But the puppy couldn’t be all there was to him. You didn’t  _ survive  _ Hell if that was all you brought to the fight.

“Did it work?”

Lucifer’s smile was absolutely mirthless. “I expect I’ll find out soon enough. So, any reason you were sent up here?”

“I wasn’t sent,” Sabrina said, not a little haughtily. “I came up on my own. Though Aunt Hilda would appreciate reassurance that you’re not going to kill us all over being served vegetable pie for dinner instead of honey-roasted preteen, so…”

“I’m more of a steak person, but I’ll try anything once.”

Sabrina’s stomach turned. “ _ Anything _ ?” she said, her voice hard.

“Anything that could reasonably be counted as food, so not small children or anything involving spam.” He snorted. “Even if I were that way inclined, there’s hardly enough meat on your average child-”

“You’ve  _ tested  _ that-?”

“No, of course not!” Lucifer protested, and he did sound genuinely appalled this time, if that meant anything. “Why- You were the one that brought it up! Except- You weren’t joking, were you?”

Sabrina shook her head, tongue-tied. There was nothing puppyish about the look on Lucifer’s face now. He had gone very still, his eyes so black that for a moment she thought she could see red glinting off them, the fires of Hell dancing in their depths. It reminded Sabrina, in that moment, of nothing so much as a poisonous snake, coiled and ready to strike.

“Well,” he said, and his voice echoed oddly in the dimness of the attic, full of strange, dark harmonics. “Excuse me, witchling. It seems I need a  _ word  _ with your aunts.”

Sabrina did not know Lucifer very well. But already, she had the distinct impression that ‘a word’ was here synonymous with ‘an excruciatingly painful eternity’. He was halfway out of the attic before she managed to catch up with him, moving at a slow, leisurely stalk that Sabrina still had to jog to catch up with.

“You can’t- You can’t hurt them,” she protested desperately. “It’s not their fault-”

“Then whose fault is it?” Lucifer demanded, rounding on her. He was more than a foot taller than she was, towering, and there was something like the roll of distant thunder in his snarl. “You tell me, hellspawn, who should I be blaming for this, if not the people who did it?”

“Nothing’s been done!” Sabrina said desperately. “It’s why things are so desperate - Aunt Zelda’s not going to kill a child just to feed  _ you _ .” She hoped. She prayed. Aunt Zelda had never murdered a mortal person in all the time Sabrina had known her, but she  _ was  _ devout, and all the lore said that roast child was the Dark Lord’s favourite dish. Aunt Zelda loved children, Sabrina reminded herself. She’d go against the Dark Lord for Sabrina- But would she do the same, for a child not her own?

“Then _ why are you so scared _ ?”

“Because I’ve got Satan himself looming over me and threatening to kill my relatives!” Sabrina snapped, and for a moment, Lucifer flinched back as if stung. “If you want to blame anyone, blame Baphomet! Blame whoever it was who wrote down that you demanded child-flesh whenever a witch family hosted you! Nobody in this house has done  _ anything- _ ”

“That’s right! None of them has done  _ anything _ ! Any one of them could have stood up and said ‘no, we aren’t going to behave like monsters anymore!’ Did any of them even think of it-?”

“That wasn’t what I meant!” Sabrina pulled at her hair. “Do you even know what we got excommunicated for? We  _ have  _ fought to stop the Church of Night from getting any worse-”

“But not to make it any better-”

“As opposed to what  _ you’ve  _ been doing?” Sabrina demanded. “You can judge us all you want for not trying to improve things, but we’re not the ones who let Baphomet do all of this in the first place!”

“What- What do you mean ‘we’. I’m not judging  _ you _ -”

“Why not? I’m a part of this coven too!” Sabrina crossed her arms. “If they’re guilty, I’m guilty.”

She’d protested their more horrifying traditions, but how many had she actually been able to stop? And how much had her resistance spurred Father Blackwood on? Had he even seen the Spellmans as a threat before Sabrina defied the Dark Lord’s will and humiliated Blackwood before his church? Aunt Zelda had been a member of the Church of Night in good standing, and Aunt Hilda...well, who noticed Aunt Hilda, who was almost universally dismissed as Aunt Zelda’s shadow before her excommunication.

Lucifer was still, his face an impassive mask. It felt wrong, seeing it like that, even after this short an acquaintance - his was a face that only ever looked  _ right  _ when animated - and the hairs went up on the back of Sabrina’s neck under his scrutiny.

“If they haven’t murdered a child  _ yet _ , that isn’t much of a recommendation,” he said at last, and his voice was...odd. Not calm, not really, but at the same time, the rage that had underlain every word was...not gone, but blunted, held at bay. It was a chance, at least.

“And we’re not going to.  _ I  _ wouldn’t stand for it, if you won’t trust Aunt Zelda’s morals.”

“If she voluntarily worships someone that eats children, I don’t see why I  _ should _ .”

Sabrina crossed her arms. “Because she was willing to fight Baphomet even before she knew he wasn’t the real you. And because, as I keep telling you, nobody is slaughtering children just to feed  _ you _ . Aunt Hilda just wants to be sure you won’t massacre the lot of us for going for the vegetarian option.”

Lucifer snorted. “At the moment, that sounds ideal. For Dad’s sake, you realise you have actually managed to make me feel physically  _ ill  _ at the thought of steak? If that’s not deserving of a blood feud all on its own, I don’t know what  _ is _ …”

Sabrina swallowed. She could feel her heart slowing down, still hammering far too loud in her ears, but slower now. Calming, she thought. She didn’t feel calm. 

“So...all that was just another lie? No child-eating for you?”

“Absolutely not! I don’t  _ like  _ the little beasts...present company and the detective’s urchin excepted...but that doesn’t mean I, or anyone else, is allowed to  _ murder  _ them! Exactly what sort of devil do you think I am?”

“I don’t  _ know _ !” Sabrina snapped. “I just- You appeared out of thin air yesterday, none of us knows a thing about you that you didn’t tell us- We’re  _ scared _ , all right? All of us.”

Now, Lucifer looked...worried, perhaps? But what did  _ he  _ have to worry about in all this? He was the one with all the power, wasn’t he? What could  _ he  _ have to be afraid of?

“Hellspawn...I can promise I won’t kill anyone for any past crimes committed in my name or on my impostor’s orders. That’s as much as I’ll offer. Future crimes...well, technically, they’re their own business and will be suitably punished when the time comes, but I should probably make it clear that there is, in fact, a special place in Hell for cannibals. Lots of tofu involved.”

Sabrina couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped her at that mental image. “Cute. But- Is that all cannibalism? I mean if...if a body was...was already dead, say…”

“Does that come up often?”

Sabrina shrugged. “This  _ is  _ a mortuary.”

Lucifer had gone faintly greenish. “...converting to vegetarianism is sounding more and more sensible by the minute,” he muttered. “All right, this clearly can’t go on any longer. Attention, all cultists!” he called down the stairs, loud enough to make Sabrina jump. “Sitting room, now! I’ve got a few things that need said.” He caught Sabrina’s eye and grimaced. “...There,” he said grimly. “Any other charming habits I ought to be aware of? Ritual virgin sacrifices,  _ droit de seigneur _ …”

“Um…”

“...what,  _ both _ ? I  _ was  _ joking!”

Sabrina shrugged. “Yeah, well. I know it’s screwed up, believe me. But since you  _ aren’t  _ going to be appearing to witch brides-to-be on the night before their wedding and demanding sex as their lord and master…”

“That isn’t even my kind of roleplay! You mean Baphomet was-”

Sabrina shrugged. “Then it probably isn’t relevant.”

“Beg to differ, if someone’s been  _ raped  _ by an entity claiming to be me then it’s  _ definitely  _ relevant!” Lucifer snarled, and - yes, his eyes  _ were  _ actually red. Sabrina noted it distantly, the way she might spot an interesting pattern of clouds, and it came as an odd sort of shock to realise that she wasn’t afraid of him. There was every logical reason to be...but she wasn’t.

“Auntie Zee is the only one who’s gotten married recently,” Sabrina said, as reassuringly as she could, even as her stomach churned. “And with the Antipope getting murdered the night before, I don’t see that there was time for...anything.”

“There’s an Antipope now as well?” Lucifer made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “Well, that’s  _ quite  _ enough of that.”

Sabrina could hear the thundering of feet downstairs. When the Dark Lord gave a commandment, it was  _ obeyed _ . Lucifer made a face like Salem being presented with the wrong flavour of cat food.

“Not big on disobedience, your cult, is it?” he said dryly, wrinkling his nose.

Sabrina grinned. “Why’d you think I’m so unpopular? Around here, if the Dark Lord says ‘jump’, you’re expected to already be in the air by the time you ask ‘how high?’.”

“ _ That _ sounds familiar.” He grinned at her, sudden and startling. “Except you.  _ Look  _ at you! I never wanted a mini-me before!” For a moment, Sabrina was almost afraid he might hug her, but the moment passed into awkwardness, and Lucifer cleared his throat. “So...downstairs. Have your aunts redecorated at all since the Titanic? Or is being a century behind the times just a general witch thing?”

Sabrina had smacked him on the arm before she could process what a bad idea that was, and once she’d done it, there was no taking it back. “We’re not ‘behind the times’. It’s timeless,” she said haughtily, pulling her hand back just a little too quickly.

“I hope that’s referring to your decor and not your lifestyle, witchling…”

They emerged onto the split staircase down to the ground floor just in time to see the remnants of the Church of Night gathered in the hallway, staring fixedly up. Sabrina could recognise...maybe four of them. The remaining Weird Sisters, Mervin and Elspeth...nobody else. Another stab of guilt went through her.

Lucifer, of course, seemed entirely unflapped by being the object of all those stairs, leaning casually on the bannister between the two curving staircases and smirking down at the assembled company. It could not properly be termed a smile, unless you were referring to the kind that moved at speed towards drowning sailors, and had a fin on top.

“So,” he said, with a kindergarten teacher’s clap of the hands, “I’ve heard all kinds of stories of what you’ve all been up to in my absence. And while usually I’m the last person to frown on a bit of creative disobedience, I  _ do  _ have to draw the line somewhere, and you people are that line.”

There was a general muttering from below, going through the assembled witches like a wave, and Lucifer had to raise his voice to be heard above the clamour.

“Let’s start with the cannibalism.  _ Don’t _ . In fact, let’s expand that to murder in general. For people who claim to value free will, you disregard other people’s alarmingly easily. Cut it out. Or…” he paused, letting the moment draw itself out, and a wide and vicious smile spread across his face. “You know, I don’t believe I need to specify ‘or’. Use your imaginations, you seem to be good at it. While we’re at it, virgin sacrifice - or any sort of human sacrifice - comes under the same heading as ‘murder’. Yes, even if it’s traditional. Yes, even if your high priest orders it. And if I ever wanted to visit witches on the night before their wedding, I certainly don’t anymore. Anything that appears to you claiming to be me and demanding sex  _ isn’t _ , and while you’re free to have sex with any such entity if you want to, feel free to banish them if you don’t.” He glanced over at Sabrina. “Was that everything?”

“You might want to include a section on ‘revelations from the Dark Lord’ that say that you want people to have sex with the high priest,” Sabrina said grumpily. “But since the High Priest already ran off, I don’t think it’ll come up again.”

She felt obscurely annoyed. He hadn’t made any demands of the coven that they wouldn’t or couldn’t have enforced themselves - Aunt Zelda might have been harder to talk around, but the only reason the question of cannibalism had come up at all was Lucifer’s presence. She might carve a few choice portions off closed-casket burials, but child-murder was not something she would consider for any lesser cause than the Dark Lord’s. They could have worked on her, and on the rest of the coven, though it would’ve taken at least a month of argument to get that far. And to have all that work swept away on the current of Lucifer’s overwhelming charisma was...Sabrina would not have recognised it as a loss before now, but it was.

“All  _ right _ , none of those either.” Lucifer stuck his hands in his pockets and glanced back down at the assembled coven. “You can go,” he added, with a dismissive flick of the hand.

All at once, the surusus of whispering that had started at his first pronouncement rose to a clamour, as about a dozen people all tried to catch Lucifer’s attention at once.

“My lord?” One voice rose above the rest. It was Aunt Zelda’s. “Dark Lord, I am...confused.” The crowd parted around her as she stepped forward, straight-backed and proud, her eyes fixed on Lucifer’s, cigarette-holder clutched tight in one hand. 

“Are you?” Lucifer said carelessly, already starting down the stairs. Sabrina made for the other staircase, in the hope that her classmates, busy gawking at Lucifer, wouldn’t have the attention to spare for her. It wasn’t working brilliantly. Too many of them had seen Lucifer look to her, and even if she’d asked the Weird Sisters to quash the rumours, there had already been rumours to quash. Her stomach roiled and twisted again at the thought, and the scrutiny did not improve things.

“Yes, my lord, I am,” Aunt Zelda said squarely, raising her chin. “First you arrive at our doorstep, mud-stained and ragged, and announce to anyone who cared to listen that you have no interest in our ways, and no use for our worship. And now, here you are, making proclamations and issuing orders. What are we to make of this? Are you our Lord, or aren’t you? If you are…” Aunt Zelda drew in a breath. “Then we will serve, and serve well, but we cannot- Duty cannot go just one way. We will be loyal to you, if you will be loyal to us. But if you  _ aren’t _ ...then I don’t see how it’s any concern of yours what we do.”

Sabrina swallowed. She could not imagine how Aunt Zelda had said it. It was one thing for Sabrina or Aunt Hilda - they’d never cared two straws for the Dark Lord even when he’d been an unknowable force of malevolence, out there in the dark at the edge of town. But apparently Aunt Zelda had finally found her feet again, and she was magnificent, standing there, scarred and defiant and dignified despite it all, and Sabrina couldn’t help the swell of pride beneath her breastbone.

Lucifer, leaning against the bannister on the first landing down, was watching her with a considering look.

“...you do have a point,” he said at last. “But this isn’t a command. You can go on as you are, if you like. Sacrifices, worship, the lot...that’s the thing about free will. It includes the freedom to worship me, even if I don’t want you to. You’re free to behave as despicably as you damn well please.” He smiled again, dark and cold and cruel. “And when you die, which is unfortunate, but necessary, I’ll...well, I expect I’ll still be in LA, but  _ someone  _ will be there. And Hell does not take worship as an excuse for sin. So, by all means, keep going, but don’t delude yourselves that it’s going to make any difference. And we have  _ very  _ creative punishments for cannibals. And people who make sacrifices to us. The demons seem to think it’s funny. There was this one group of me-worshippers from this little English boarding school back in the nineteen-tens...Saint Hilarion’s, I think it was...”

“ _ Lucifer _ ,” Sabrina hissed. “Nobody wants to hear about demons torturing schoolkids!”

“Oh,  _ trust me _ , this lot deserved it…”

“ _ Dad _ !”

Lucifer froze. Actually  _ froze _ . Wow, that was dramatic.  _ That  _ was interesting. Then, he cleared his throat, almost awkwardly. “...anyway. No punishment for being taken advantage of by your high priest or an entity claiming to be me, obviously, but I’d have thought getting out of that bit would be more of a relief.” He shrugged. “As for why I’m telling you this...I’m here. And Sabrina is attached to you. Since she’s the only reason I’ve ever had to pay any attention to this sad little cult-”

“Dad,” Sabrina repeated, just to see the effect. He didn’t freeze up this time, but his eyes flicked straight to her before he went on.

“-consider this a friendly warning,” he finished, with slightly less venom than before. “Now, who’s for going  _ out  _ for dinner?  _ Is  _ there anywhere to go in this backwater? I know a few good places back in LA I’m looking forward to showing you, but that’s not exactly helpful right n-”

“Show her?” Aunt Zelda spluttered. “No- No, absolutely not-”

Lucifer fixed her with a very cold look. “I wasn’t aware that you were the person I needed to consult,” he said sharply. “Since Sabrina’s already agreed, haven’t you, witchling?”

Sabrina shifted awkwardly, all too aware of suddenly being the focus of every single pair of eyes in the room. Aunt Zelda’s, most of all, were wide and shocked and...and betrayed. This was why Sabrina had put off telling her. This was why she’d wanted to find some way to break it gently. Of course, Lucifer hadn’t afforded her that much.

“Is this true, Sabrina?” Aunt Zelda asked, stonily.

Sabrina swallowed. “Just- Just for the summer,” she said pathetically. “Like...visitation rights? Just to see-”

Aunt Zelda’s lips thinned. “Hilda,” she said icily, “In the kitchen, now. You too,” she added, turning that icy look on Sabrina. “We are going to sort this out-”

“Yes,” Lucifer said, pleasant as poison, “We are.”

Aunt Zelda was capable of more even than Sabrina had even given her credit for, but a lifetime of pious obedience to the Dark Lord’s will had left her with only so much defiance to muster up.

“Very well, then,” she said coldly. “This is a...a family matter. I suppose, given...recent developments...you have...some claim to that.”

“Yes,” Lucifer agreed, with another of those cold, brittle smiles. “I do.”

He crossed over to the kitchen door and held it open in invitation. Sabrina glanced sideways at her aunt, who drew herself up that little bit further, and walked through without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

Aunt Zelda settled on the other side of the kitchen table like a woman preparing for war. She sat bolt upright, her fingers white-knuckled on the cigarette holder she’d hardly put down since Blackwood lost his hold on her, and her face was white as milk beneath her make-up, making the spots of rouge on her cheeks look like clown paint. It was a relief when Aunt Hilda chose to sit at right-angles to her and Sabrina both, though she was every bit as pale and drawn as Aunt Zelda. It made this feel slightly less like an interrogation. Lucifer had chosen to sit beside Sabrina, on the low red settle that served instead of chairs down one full side of the table, making them into a united front. She wished, on some level, that he hadn’t done that, even as she was glad to have  _ someone  _ there with her.

“So,” Aunt Zelda said stonily, “You mean to abandon us.”

Sabrina closed her eyes. It was going to be one of  _ those  _ lectures. Guilt roiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought because it wasn’t- it wasn’t that Aunt Zelda was  _ wrong _ , exactly. She  _ was  _ running away.

“Are...you’re mad at me,” she said, avoiding Aunt Zelda’s eyes. Aunt Hilda, sitting next to her, was chewing on her bottom lip with a nervous look. There would be no help from that quarter.

“Mad?” Aunt Zelda repeated. “No, Sabrina, I’m not mad that you are deserting me. Deserting this family. Deserting our coven, in its greatest hour of need-”

“ _ That’s _ rather a judgemental way to phrase it,” Lucifer said acidly. “And if you want her to stick around, heaping on the guilt isn’t any way to do it. It might work for a little while,” he added, “But in the long term...well, I’ve seen how  _ that  _ ends. Sooner or later, she’ll break away. All that’s left for you is to decide whether or not she’ll feel able to come back.”

Aunt Zelda bristles. “Well, of course she will!” she snapped. “Sabrina knows she’ll always have a place with us.”

It sent a sort of warmth through Sabrina to hear it said aloud, even when it had been the cornerstone assumption of her world all her life. Whatever the world outside might hold, she was always welcome at the mortuary.

There was a shadow in Lucifer’s eyes when she glanced over at him, but Sabrina couldn’t say what it was.

“I...I know,” she said, “I mean...I don’t- I don’t want to leave for good. I just…” she swallowed. “I need…”

She needed what? Space? Time? It all sounded absurdly petty, in the face of what Aunt Zelda had been through. She shrugged, rather than say any of it aloud, and Aunt Zelda drew in a breath.

“I know things have been...trying...lately,” she said, in as conciliatory a tone as Aunt Zelda ever used. Her fingers were playing along the stem of her cigarette-holder again, the way they only ever did when she was really, truly worried and trying desperately not to show it. “But do you honestly believe that running off to Los Angeles with this…”

She cast a look at Lucifer - well, Sabrina thought, at least the reverence had worn off quickly. By the look on Lucifer’s face, he wasn’t sure if he liked this development or not.

“...with the- With Lucifer...is going to improve the situation?”

Lucifer shrugged. “Well, it means she will be  _ out  _ of it,” he put in, “Which can’t make things worse.”

“And you expect us to trust our niece’s safety to  _ you _ ?” 

“You were happy enough worshipping me a week ago, what makes this any worse?” Lucifer demanded, crossing his arms.

“ _ That _ was before I knew what you were!” Aunt Zelda snapped. “A preening, posturing, self-obsessed manchild with about as much understanding of duty and tradition as- as-”

“As me?” Sabrina suggested, dry. It was nothing that hadn’t been said before. “Aunt Zelda, I know- I know the timing is-”

“The  _ timing  _ is the least of the reasons why this is a bad idea! Or have you forgotten what happened the  _ last  _ time one of us left Greendale?”

“That was  _ completely  _ different!” Sabrina protested. “It’s not- Lucifer isn’t Baphomet. And he’s not Father Blackwood either.”

“We know that, darling,” Aunt Hilda said quickly, reaching over to catch Sabrina’s hands in hers. “Of course we do, it’s just...you can see why we’re worried, can’t you? What with...everything?” Her eyes flicked again to Aunt Zelda, who ignored her.

“ _ I _ can’t,” Lucifer said baldly. “Not having been here for any of it. Other than the apocalypse and the poisoning, but since all of that happened here, I really don’t see why it warrants the Nathaniel Hawthorne routine.  _ Yes _ , there are devils outside the township, but this one happens to be friendly. Or at least, not about to make trouble for Sabrina by doing anything to people she likes. I even gave you a mostly-free pass on the cannibalism, if that wasn’t enough to prove my good intentions. I don’t do that for anyone, you know!”

Aunt Zelda’s face was like stone now. “...well,” she said, her voice just barely shaking. “There’s another illusion dispensed with. I was always led to believe you saw everything.”

“You’re thinking of my Dad,” Lucifer agreed, “Or possibly Father Christmas. It seems to be a common misunderstanding ‘round here.” He cocked his head to one side, a sharp-edged smile spreading across his face. “So...what  _ is  _ it that you want?”

“I beg your-” Aunt Zelda started.

“I know you don’t want your niece to leave with me,” Lucifer overrode her, “But what  _ do  _ you want? What is it that you  _ truly  _ desire?”

Sabrina could see where this was going, and it wasn’t anywhere good. “ _ Lucifer- _ ”

Aunt Zelda’s hands clenched in front of her. “I want…” she said, in a strange, half-strangled voice. “I want…”

“Go on…” Lucifer urged, voice low and soft and - ugh -  _ seductive _ .

“I want to feel safe again,” Aunt Zelda said, all at a rush, as if she was ashamed of it. “I want us all to be safe. I want to stop  _ seeing  _ Faustus everywhere, out of the corner of my eye. I want to never feel his hands on me again, even the shadow of them inside my mind. I want-” she broke off, shuddering, grey-faced, and when Sabrina’s head snapped around to snarl at Lucifer for having hurt her like this, all the blood was draining out of his face, his eyes wide and shocked and ashamed.

“...right,” he said shakily. “...that...got uncomfortable quickly. I’ll just...stay over here and possibly never ask you another personal question again so long as we both shall live. So, for all of eternity. Um. Are you…”

“Fine,” Aunt Zelda said, a bit too quickly. She was already composing herself. She was good at that. Aunt Zelda composed herself the way people might compose a speech, or a symphony, creating, out of nothing, Zelda Spellman. “I suppose this…” she made a vague gesture of two fingers. “Is the ‘party trick’ Hilda mentioned?”

“...you could call it that,” Lucifer said after a moment, grimacing.

Aunt Hilda cleared her throat. “Well, now that’s out of the way…” she said cautiously, knotting her fingers together in front of her. “Um...look, I know this is...that this isn’t something any of us thought we’d have to discuss, but- but we all want what’s best for Sabrina, don’t we? I mean…”

“I definitely do,” Sabrina put in, feeling as if she had to say  _ something _ , if only to remind her relatives that she was still in the room. “And- Do you actually need me here?” she asked, hating how plaintive her own voice sounded. “I mean...I know the coven is going to be...but I’m not…”

She hadn’t even respected coven tradition when there had still been a coven worth speaking of, and she wasn’t more likely to now that the Dark Lord himself had turned up to announce it was all nonsense anyway.

“That is hardly the point,” Aunt Zelda said quellingly. “You’ve had enough near brushes with death this year here in Greendale, and now you want to leave for Satan-knows-where-”

“Yes, I do know where,” Lucifer agreed. “LA. Lux. My nightclub,” he added, by way of clarification. “She’ll be perfectly safe, scout’s honour.”

Sabrina scoffed. “You’re not a scout.”

“You know what they say, once a scout, always a scout...or is that king? One or the other, possibly both…”

“You were  _ never  _ a scout.”

“You know what they say, never a scout, always a scout.” He attempted a salute. It was not what anyone would call a particularly successful attempt anywhere that wasn’t the planet Vulcan.

“When has anyone  _ ever  _ said that?”

Lucifer blinked at her. “I did. Just now. Do you have some sort of hearing difficulty? Because I can make accommodations, I already know most forms of sign language-”

“My hearing’s fine,” Sabrina said quickly. “So...can I go?” 

She looked over at her aunts.

Aunt Hilda looked worried, but Aunt Zelda’s face could have been a mask for all that she was letting show. Only her fingers seemed animated, twitching on the handle of her cigarette-holder.

Lucifer cleared his throat. “If you want to, hellspawn, I’d like to see anyone stop you.” His mouth twitched. “Me included.”

“Absolutely not!” Aunt Zelda snapped. “We  _ do  _ need you here, Sabrina! The coven needs every witch we have-”

“She’s  _ sixteen _ !” Lucifer snapped. “She deserves a chance to  _ be  _ sixteen! And if your coven can’t do without one teenage witch, I don’t think much of your chances of survival anyway!”

“That is exactly my point! Much as has been asked of her these last few months, she’s still a child. She needs her family, and her home - and what about school?”

“I’ve barely been into Baxter High since the end of winter break!” Sabrina exclaimed. “I’ll manage! It’s not as though there aren’t schools in LA-”

Aunt Zelda threw up her hands. “First you talk about visiting for the summer, and now you want to find a school there? You’re sixteen, you can’t be expected to make decisions that might affect your whole life in one afternoon-”

“Then I won’t ask her any complicated questions,” Lucifer said nastily. “But it  _ is  _ her life. And, therefore, her decision.”

“Are- Are you sure?” Aunt Hilda asked, casting a timid look at Sabrina. “I mean...what about all your friends? Roz, and Theo, and Harvey? Don’t you want some time with them?”

“I do- I mean-” Sabrina shifted. “I just...after everything, I can’t- I can’t stay in Greendale. Not straight away. I’ll come back!” she added quickly, “But I need the time away. Please. I’ll stay in touch! I’ll only ever be a mirror-call away, and- and I can come back, if the coven needs me?”

“Don’t make concessions, hellspawn,” Lucifer said, chiding. “No sense in giving ground before you have to.”

Aunt Zelda snorted. “And how well has that approach served you? Even Baphomet was willing to accept a tactical retreat.”

“Other people are going to be quick enough to demand things of her,” Lucifer said darkly, “There’s no sense in giving in  _ before  _ you know what they’re going to ask for.”

That...was actually pretty solid advice, as advice went. It made her think of her trial, and of Mr Webster, who’d told her that the Dark Lord offering concessions meant he was afraid he’d lose. This was just another form of that same advice, seen from the other side. Lucifer, she thought, would have chosen to make a fight of it.

“Does...does it have to be now?” Aunt Hilda asked. “I mean...there’s the rest of the school term, and I know you’ve missed a lot, but you could make it up. And- and there’s the Hare Moon next month. You always loved that, remember? I remember when you were a little girl, you used to love the picnic, and coming to see the rabbit for the Hare Moon before it was released. I remember you cried and cried, that one year Dorcas wouldn’t let you pet it...”

“It’s not even a real holiday! And- Isn’t there a bit of an issue with that, what with Lucifer having opted out?”

“The Hare Moon has no  _ strict  _ ties to Satanic worship,” Aunt Zelda said brusquely. “And even if it did, this is no time to be questioning our traditions.”

Lucifer caught Sabrina’s eye, incredulous. Sabrina couldn’t blame him.

“Aunties...if we’re not going to question traditions now, when  _ are  _ we?” she asked. “I mean....we can’t just...go on as we were? Can we? Knowing what we know now, I’d think that was pretty much impossible.”

Aunt Zelda sat, if possible, even straighter. “Yes, well...however little meaning our rituals may have to the Dark- to your father, that does not make them meaningless to  _ us _ . We  _ will  _ go forward, perhaps...perhaps not in  _ quite  _ the same way, but if Lucifer truly has no authority over us, he has no right or ability to forbid us, and his ‘one commandment’ can have no relevance.”

By the look on his face, Lucifer disagreed with that, but didn’t know how to turn that disagreement into a rational argument.

“So long as you keep my name out of it,” he muttered at last, grudgingly. “So, planning a conversion to the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster?”

“The Flying-” Aunt Zelda blinked. “Certainly not! We are...still at a very delicate stage at this point. If Lilith is now Queen of Hell, perhaps we’re her Church now…”

Sabrina shifted uneasily. She didn’t  _ hate  _ Lilith, exactly. For all her manipulations, she’d given Sabrina good advice more than once, and she’d been as much Baphomet’s pawn as any of them. That didn’t mean Sabrina wanted to worship her.

“Consider her more of a Prime Minister,” Lucifer said, grinning. “That was what our talk was about, earlier. Introducing constitutional monarchy to Hell. Honour is satisfied, and we can all go on with our lives as usual.”

Sabrina wasn’t sure how  _ that  _ was supposed to work, but if it meant a bit less Hell up in everyone’s business, she could get behind it.

“I see,” Aunt Zelda said distantly. “But, even in that case, we would not answer to  _ you _ .”

Lucifer threw up his hands. “I don’t  _ want  _ you to! And all this is beside the point, which is Sabrina coming back to LA with me. For the summer, or for however long she wants.”

“Just the summer,” Sabrina said hastily, looking back at Aunt Zelda. She could  _ feel  _ Lucifer watching her, but she didn’t look at him. “I’m not- not leaving. Not for good. But I think...I need some room to breathe. And I can’t do that in Greendale. My whole life, I thought I was two things. Half witch, half mortal. Now...I don’t know  _ what  _ I am.”

“Nephilim,” Lucifer supplied helpfully. “Half-celestial. It’s rarer than it used to be, since the Flood, but you’re not the first.”

The Flood...Sabrina had heard that story, too. Aunt Zelda had read it to her as a little girl, another example of the tyranny of the False God, who would deny his servants all pleasure, and murder children to prove a point. It had only ever been a story, now, but here she was, sitting next to her father, who had lived through it. The faceless children from the story were now her cousins. The world seemed to tilt on its side at that little revelation.

“...right,” she muttered. “But- It’s not that I don’t want to stay,” she said quickly. “Or- or that I don’t want to help the coven. I just…I’m not sure I  _ can _ .”

If Lucifer had never arrived...if she’d had no option to leave, maybe she could have done it. If she’d had some great necessity tying her to Greendale, she might not have felt this need to be somewhere far away, where she knew no-one and no-one knew her. But there wasn’t, and she did.

It was like...like being trapped in the mortuary, and not noticing, not caring, not realising how much she wanted a way out, until someone opened a window, and she could suddenly taste clean spring air. She wondered if this was how Ambrose had felt, all those years confined to the mortuary and the graveyard, when Father Blackwood had finally offered him his way out.

“What about the coven?” Aunt Zelda demanded. “You have a responsibility- We can’t do without you.”

“I- I know,” Sabrina admitted, miserable. “And I’m not trying to- to wriggle out of that, but-”

“You have a responsibility to yourself as well, you know,” Lucifer interrupted. “And since my therapist  _ will  _ keep telling me I need to focus on my own issues before dealing with anyone else’s…”

Sabrina side-eyed him. “...you have a therapist?”

She couldn’t quite picture the Devil sprawled out on the stereotypical psychiatrist’s couch, talking about his feelings.

“Doctor Linda,” Lucifer said brightly, “I’ll introduce you, if you like.”

Sabrina tried to picture the therapist willing to take on the Devil as a client, considered the likelihood of ending up in an institution if she actually tried to talk about anything that had happened to her this last year, and privately resolved that she wasn’t going to talk to this Doctor Linda with a gun to her head.

“...okay,” she said instead, and then, more tentatively. “Aunt Zelda?”

“I suppose I can’t prevent you,” Aunt Zelda said icily. “Certainly you’ve followed through every  _ other  _ disastrous idea you’ve ever come up with.”

_ That  _ stung, even or perhaps especially because Sabrina couldn’t deny the truth of it. Tommy’s death, the disrupted wedding, the exorcism that had killed Jesse Putnam...even when Aunt Zelda had known and tried to stop her, it hadn’t worked.

“You’re afraid,” Lucifer said slowly, in the tones of a man who was coming to a great and terrible revelation. “And not for Sabrina. Not  _ just  _ for that, anyway.” He leaned forwards, catching Aunt Zelda’s gaze and holding it. “You’re afraid of being  _ left _ .”

Aunt Zelda’s mouth opened and closed. Her fingers twitched like a dying woman’s.

“...afraid?” she repeated. “No, I’m not afraid. I am...sadly unsurprised. And resigned.”

She stubbed out her cigarette on the kitchen table, and rose to her feet, stalking out of the kitchen before Sabrina could get more than halfway up from the settle.

Sabrina rounded on Lucifer. “ _ That _ was your idea of helping?”

“Yes! And it appears to be working. She’s not going to stop you, is she?”

Sabrina growled at him, “Yes, and that’s not the same thing as  _ agreeing _ ! I wanted- I didn’t want to make things  _ worse  _ here while I ran away!”

“Um, I’ll just go and see if she’s all right, shall I?” Aunt Hilda said awkwardly. “Sabrina- Don’t take it too personally. You know Zelda gets...spiny...when she’s feeling…”   
“I know,” Sabrina muttered. And Aunt Zelda had every reason, it was just- What good was Sabrina even  _ doing _ , staying here? Aunt Zelda would never  _ talk  _ to her about what happened. What was Sabrina’s presence going to do, if not just give her more to worry about, and Aunt Zelda had enough on her plate.

Aunt Hilda pressed a hand to Sabrina’s shoulder, a moment’s warm pressure, before hurrying away after her sister. On the settle beside Sabrina, Lucifer twisted to look after her.

“What  _ did  _ happen the last time one of you left town?” he asked, glancing around to look at Sabrina. “She can’t be talking about the plane crash, can she?”

“She can,” Sabrina said, with the weariness of long experience. “But she isn’t.”

Lucifer cocked his head to one side, inviting confidences. Sabrina sighed.

“She was married to Father Blackwood. Despite my best efforts. He- On their honeymoon, he cast this- this spell. It’s called the Caligari spell. It…” she swallowed. “This- It’s really not for me to tell, but...it was bound to a music-box. She says she was aware the whole time…”

“Caligari. As in  _ The Cabinet of Dr _ …?”

“Yeah.”   
“Right, I do believe I have the gist of it.” Lucifer’s voice was brittle, his face white and hard and furious. “On their  _ honeymoon _ ? I’ve heard of Stepford Wives, but even they waited a bit longer before deciding to go the brainwashing route!”

“Robotic replacements,” Sabrina corrected. “The original novel and movie had the women actually having been murdered and replaced by robotic duplicates. Usually hotter ones, too. The first movie downplayed that because the director’s real-life wife was playing one of the Wives, and didn’t have the sort of figure the novel described, and all the subsequent ones went the brainwashing route instead, allowing for an eventual rescue.” She coughed. “Everyone gets that wrong. It’s a pretty neat little horror story, or it was until the remake.”

Lucifer was watching her again. “You seem to know a fair bit about it.”

“I like horror movies.” Sabrina shrugged. “Always have.  _ The Stepford Wives _ isn’t my favourite, but…” At this point, admitting how much she liked  _ Rosemary’s Baby _ , with its subtle, creeping horror and themes of control, coercion and abuse, would just feel like a cliche.

“Oh,  _ really _ ?” Lucifer brightened. “Will admit, I’m more for action films myself, but LA has no shortage of horror movie history…”

Sabrina glared at him. “Stop trying to distract me. I don’t even know if I’m  _ going  _ yet. I told you, I don’t want to make things worse for her.”

“...quite nauseatingly selfless,” Lucifer muttered, sounding absurdly fond. “You didn’t get that from me.” 

Sabrina shrugged. “She’s...I mean...I never knew my mom. So, instead, I’ve got Aunt Hilda and Aunt Zelda. They’ve always looked out for me. I just want to pay it back. I...guess that’s not a thing, for you?”

Lucifer’s mouth twitched. “Looking out for one another wasn’t exactly a priority in my family, no.” There was an odd edge to his voice, under the glibness - almost wistful. Sabrina wondered if he’d ever wanted that, and decided that she was never, ever going to ask.

“Well, it is in this one. Even when we’re at each other’s throats, which is...disturbingly often, considering.” She slumped. “It was why Father Blackwood did it. Or part of why. Sa- Go-  _ Somebody  _ knows that Father Blackwood liked women quiet, compliant and unquestioning anyway, but he might not’ve gone as far as he did if he hadn’t wanted to have someone to use against the Spellmans, and Aunt Zelda…”

“Was the nearest available target.” Lucifer’s voice was dark. “It’s a familiar enough story. How did she escape the curse?”

“I found the music-box.” Sabrina swallowed. “She- she went back, afterwards. She said she had to, to keep Father Blackwood from suspecting…”

“Or he’d come after the rest of you.” Lucifer looked away, at the door Aunt Zelda had left through. “It seems I haven’t been giving your aunt  _ nearly  _ enough credit.” His voice was grimmer now, almost as harsh as it had been yesterday, when he had learnt what Baphomet had been planning, and what he had done.

“No,” Sabrina agreed, “You haven’t.”

Lucifer winced. “All right, no need to rub it in. Do you think she’d appreciate this Blackwood’s head on a pike?”

Sabrina shrugged. “Probably? Ambrose and Prudence are going after him. I...I asked him to visit, in LA,” she added, a little shyly. “You said you had a bounty hunter friend…?”

“Maze?” Lucifer smirked, hard and vicious, with the faintest edge of teeth. “I think Maze might do this one for free. She’s always preferred punishing pious hypocrites to any other kind of sinner.”

Sabrina shrugged. “Not sure he counts. I mean...it wasn’t like he wasn’t practicing what he preached. That was sort of the problem.”

“Normally I prefer an honest villain,” Lucifer mused. “Still, there’s always an exception. Am I to take it that you’re asking me to set Mazikeen on this Father Blackwood for your aunt?”

“...no,” Sabrina said, after a guilty moment’s consideration. “No. Prudence- Prudence will want to finish him herself. But- But if she can help…”

Lucifer nodded. “Tell you what. Have them over sometime, if they’re ever in LA, and I’ll see if I can talk Maze into it. Punishing the wicked is literally what she was created for, and while I’m all for defying your role, she is  _ very  _ good at it.”

“Thanks,” Sabrina said quietly.

She wanted Blackwood punished, was the thing. Maybe, if Lucifer hadn’t come, if they’d found some other way to deal with Baphomet, she’d have gone with them, and that would’ve been her way out. Maybe then she’d have felt less guilty about leaving.

“...no trouble, hellspawn,” Lucifer replied, equally soft, and cleared his throat. “Besides. He used my name to justify it. If that doesn’t justify a personal grudge…”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “And you just ruined it.” She rubbed her face. “I should go...talk to her. Maybe once she’s calmed down-”

“She seemed quite calm to me. Not that that’s the same thing as ‘not traumatised’, but…”

Sabrina shrugged. “She gave in about the exorcism? Theo’s uncle, he was possessed by this demon Apophis…”

“ _ That _ one I do remember. My least favourite snake demon, and the reason why the Ancient Egyptian conception of the afterlife consists of ninety-five percent snakes..” Lucifer blinked. “What on earth was he doing possessing someone in Nowhere, New England? Even if Baphomet revoked the possession ban, Apophis was never exactly the sort for unscheduled jaunts topside.”

Sabrina shrugged. “Take it up with Lilith. All I know is, guy’s an  _ asshole _ .”

“A lot of demons are. Though so are a lot of humans, so I suppose I shouldn’t judge.”

“He was apparently sealed in the Greendale Mines?” Sabrina prodded. “Jesse Putnam - Theo’s uncle - managed to break the seal by accident, Apophis possessed him, so me, my aunties and Miss Wardwell- I mean, Lilith. We went to do an exorcism - Lilith taught me a method witches could use to exorcise him.” She swallowed. “Jesse...Jesse didn’t make it. His heart gave out. Lilith said the stress of the exorcism, and the possession...that it probably killed him.”

She couldn’t look him in the face, admitting it. She’d meant well. At the time, she’d thought that mattered.

Lucifer’s voice was surprisingly gentle, when he spoke. “You can’t blame yourself for that, hellspawn.”

“Can’t I?” Sabrina said bleakly. She’d thought she was saving him. Just like she’d thought she was saving Tommy, and with him Harvey, who’d been so devastated by his brother’s death.

“...well, clearly you  _ can _ , but what I’m trying to say is, you  _ shouldn’t _ .” Lucifer put an awkward hand on her shoulder. It was surprisingly comforting, for all his stiff discomfort, and shockingly warm. “If you were studying demonology, you know how possession works. Apophis would have used the man up and moved on, if he was lucky. Torturous as Ur- as the welcoming committee upstairs might be, it’s got nothing on demonic possession for the unfortunate whose body’s been taken for a ride.”

“But if I hadn’t-”

“If you hadn’t tried the exorcism, I guarantee you, Jesse Putnam would still have died. Just...possibly a bit later, and certainly after much more pain.” Lucifer’s eyes were dark and serious, even as his voice stayed light. “It’s bad enough being dragged down by guilt for things you’re actually responsible for, don’t put this on your conscience too.”

It wasn’t anything she hadn’t known, intellectually. Lilith had told her the same thing. Lilith, who had given her the exorcism in the first place, who must have  _ known  _ the toll it would take. And it didn’t actually make Sabrina feel any less guilty this time around. Somehow, she felt better for hearing it anyway.

She might have liked to hug him, under other circumstances, but at this point it just felt weird. She butted her head against his shoulder instead, the way Salem would when he wanted her to pet behind his ears. Lucifer stiffened a little at the contact, but didn’t pull away until Sabrina did, a second later, and quickly tried to pretend it hadn’t happened.

“Think you can manage in a houseful of groupies until dinner?” she asked. “I really do need to talk to Aunt Zelda.”

“ _ Groupies _ can be a lot of fun.  _ Cultists  _ are almost always bad news, even when I’m not the object of worship...but-” he gave a dramatic sigh. “-I suppose it won’t kill me. Not unless the detective’s chosen to take a holiday, anyway.”

Sabrina didn’t even want to  _ ask  _ about that one.

“...cool,” she said instead, and then, just in case. “I think Aunt Zelda keeps the good booze in that cupboard there.” She pointed. Lucifer looked around.

“Ah. Perhaps cultists may have compensations.”

“It’s locked-”

“It won’t stay that way.”

*

When Sabrina found her, Aunt Zelda was sitting on her bed, still fully-dressed and with a whip in hand, turning it over and over in her hands, and teasing out the tails with her fingers.

“Your Aunt Hilda is downstairs,” she said, flat. “I hear she’s planning to make her famous _ vegetable pie _ .”

The amount of venom in Aunt Zelda’s voice would have been shocking if it had been applied to anything short of Father Blackwood himself, who had earned every drop of it and more. Precisely what it was about vegetable pie that elicited that sort of viciousness, Sabrina did not want to know, although she could make a guess or two.

“I know,” she said instead. “I’m not looking for her. I’m looking for you.”

Aunt Zelda didn’t look around. “I don’t see why you should be. You have made it quite clear that you have no intention of taking  _ my  _ opinion into account.”

“That’s not-” Sabrina started. “That’s not fair, Aunt Zelda.”

“It is entirely fair! And I suppose it is true, I cannot prevent you.” Aunt Zelda snorted, the whip half-falling out of her hand. “I’ve hardly been able to keep you from doing anything since your sixteenth birthday. Hell forbid I should start now.”

“I won’t go if you really think you can’t do without me,” Sabrina said miserably, going to sit down on the bed beside her. “I just- Won’t it be easier, without me here? I mean...I was already making trouble for the coven before the poisoning, what with the party and...everything.”

Aunt Zelda gathered herself, with a motion like a cross between a shrug and a broody hen rearranging its feathers. “Yes, well...you do know that...that... _ unfortunate _ incident aside, your Aunt Hilda and I have never thought of you as a burden.”

“I know.”

“And even if...well. Our lives might be easier, but...ease is not the only measure of a life. Nor the most important.” Aunt Zelda looked away over Sabrina’s shoulder, her eyes unfocused, distant.

“It’s not going to be like what happened with Father Blackwood,” Sabrina said quietly. “I mean...obvious reasons, but also...I don’t know. I don’t think he’d do something like that.”

“He’s the  _ Dark Lord _ , Sabrina,” Aunt Zelda snapped. “Whatever else may have been called into doubt about him, he is the  _ consummate  _ deceiver.”

“He says he doesn’t lie.”

“So, I imagine, do most liars.”

“He hasn’t lied to us yet.” Sabrina swallowed. “I want to believe him.”

“I wanted to believe Faustus.” Aunt Zelda looked away. “Look how that ended.”

It was as near as she had come to talking about what had happened, since the evening the curse had been broken.

“This- It isn’t remotely the same!” Sabrina caught Aunt Zelda’s hand. “I  _ know  _ he hurt you. But even leaving aside that the situations aren’t even remotely comparable because  _ ew _ , unless  _ you’ve  _ been listening to Agatha’s speculations as well-”

“Baphomet made his intentions quite clear enough without Agatha’s insistence.”

“ _ Baphomet _ , sure, but  _ Lucifer _ ?” Sabrina shook her head. “He’s been nothing but straight with us since he got here. Or- I think he has.”

“You  _ think  _ he has?” Aunt Zelda scoffed. “You’re sixteen, what do you know about it?”

Sabrina gaped at her. “Enough to decide who to trust for myself, thanks, Aunt Zelda!”

“Trust,” Aunt Zelda muttered. “...what in the Nine Circles does that mean,  _ trust _ ?”

Sabrina paused. “...don’t tell me you trusted Father Blackwood,” she said, appalled and horrified and awkward all at once. “You said yourself you were only marrying him to advance the family. You certainly didn’t trust him when it was Letitia’s life on the line-”

“ _ Believe _ me,” Aunt Zelda retorted, sharp. “I am well aware of the depths of Faustus Blackwood’s depravity. Even if I didn’t realise the...the lengths to which he was prepared to go, to get what he wanted.”

“None of us did.” Sabrina laid a hand on her shoulder. “If we’d known what he was planning, there’s no way Aunt Hilda and I would ever have let you go-”

“Which is why I find it so incomprehensible that you refuse to listen to the same advice.” There was a bite in Aunt Zelda’s voice. “I do know that the- that Lucifer’s interest in you is not of the kind so vulgarly speculated by your more indiscreet classmates. I also know that that makes no difference to the degree of control a man is capable of exercising, once a woman is entirely in his power. Or do you imagine baby Leticia will be allowed to grow up with any more freedom than Faustus permitted me?”

Leticia. That was another thing Sabrina hadn’t thought about. She wished, now, that they’d taken the risk of raising her. They could have protected her, Sabrina knew they could, and she’d seen how happy it had made Aunt Zelda, to have another child about the place, even if she’d turned all to stone and refused to show a hint of pain when they had to give her up to Dezmelda.

“That’s not going to happen,” she said fiercely. “Ambrose and Prudence are going to find Father Blackwood. They’ll bring her home. And Judas, too.” She wrinkled her nose. “...please tell me we’re not keeping that name for him?”

“Certainly not. Though, of course, that will be Prudence’s choice, I don’t imagine she is any fonder of Faustus’s Five Facets of Judas than any other young witch.”

Sabrina considered what she’d heard of that list. She certainly couldn’t see Prudence submitting meekly to those dictates. She was honestly astonished Prudence had lasted as long under them as she had.

“But...Lucifer isn’t Father Blackwood.” She snorted. “He’s all about the free will. You know Father Blackwood never meant any of that. He just trotted it out to get me to sign the Book of the Beast. Lucifer...Lucifer doesn’t  _ want  _ my soul, or my service. He- he said he was  _ proud _ that I rebelled.”

Perhaps not in so many words, but the way Lucifer nearly glowed with smugness at every rant about the unfairness of the rules witches were bound by, his obvious delight whenever she mentioned rule-breaking...it wasn’t hard to miss.

It even made a weird sort of sense. Lucifer, the rebel angel, who had refused to obey the False God’s tyrannical dictates, and who had taught Lilith magic so that she might do the same. Why, then, would he replicate that tyranny for himself?

“As Faustus once said he valued my counsel,” Aunt Zelda said bitterly. “He will need more than words to convince me to let my only niece put herself in the power of-”

“I won’t  _ be  _ ‘in his power’!” Sabrina snapped. “Or am I in yours now? And, like I said, I’ll only be a mirror-call away. It’s not like Aunt Hilda and I didn’t know  _ something  _ was wrong when you came back from your honeymoon looking and acting like the Satanic June Cleaver!”

“And do you imagine it will be as small a task to free you from the Dark Lord’s influence as it was to break Faustus’ hold on me? Or, for that matter, that he will be as unsubtle as Faustus was in his hold on me?”

“I don’t think he’s going to have a  _ hold  _ on me at all!” Sabrina snapped. “He doesn’t  _ want  _ one! He was just about ready to offer you Father Blackwood’s head on a plate when I explained-”

“You  _ told  _ him-”

Sabrina swallowed.

“I- He asked what you meant, when you talked about Spellmans leaving Greendale,” she explained, cautious. “He- He didn’t know about Father Blackwood. He’s...he offered to help hunt him down. Or to send someone else - a demon named Maze? Apparently she’s working as a bounty hunter now, so she’s got experience…” she shrugged. “I told you, the free will thing....it’s not just words, to him. Or I don’t think it is.”

Aunt Zelda’s lips thinned. “That is...commendable, I suppose. But have you really not considered that he is simply...telling you what you want to hear?”

“If he is, he’s doing a lousy job of it,” Sabrina retorted. “If he ever heard of ‘tact’, I don’t think he was paying attention, and we- I mean, I have argued with him too. And I won, and he acknowledged that I won. And he didn’t seem to mind. I  _ really  _ don’t think he’s that sort of asshole, Aunt Zelda. Can’t- Can you trust  _ me _ , at least, if you don’t trust him?”

It was, she realised as soon as she’d said it, the worst thing she could possibly say. The months since her sixteenth birthday had made it quite clear just how little Sabrina’s judgement was to be trusted, except that she couldn’t trust anyone else’s either. Lucifer could say the exorcism wasn’t her fault, and maybe it wasn’t, but there was no denying her responsibility for the rest of it.

But Aunt Zelda was watching her now with an odd expression, considering it.

“...I suppose your judgement of character has proven rather better than mine, this past year,” she said, a little shakily. “I never imagined- Well. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Of course it does!” Sabrina said, sliding her arm around to hug Aunt Zelda, and deciding she wasn’t going to bring up Lilith, or her inability to recognise when her teacher had been replaced by the Mother of Demons. Or Nick. Most of all, Sabrina didn’t want to talk about Nick.

Aunt Zelda’s arms came around her, tight, and Sabrina breathed in the smell of her, the scents of incense and floral perfume and face powder and formaldehyde.

“It would kill me to lose you, Sabrina,” Aunt Zelda whispered into her hair, soft enough that Sabrina didn’t know if she was meant to hear it.

“You won’t,” she whispered back. “Not ever. I...I will come back. You know I will. And if I don’t come back on my own, then...then you were right, and I’ll need rescuing.” She grinned into Aunt Zelda’s shoulder.

“Your faith in my abilities is very touching,” Aunt Zelda said, in a voice that was probably meant to be dry, but wasn’t. “But I fear your Aunt Hilda and I may encounter some difficulties, rescuing you from the clutches of the Dark Lord himself.”

“You were willing to fight him for me once,” Sabrina reminded her. “But I really don’t think it’s going to come to that. Just- Just give it a chance, and if you were right...then, I guess you’ll be able to say ‘I told you so’ after I’ve been rescued.”

“Rescue,” Aunt Zelda said heavily, “Will not be the end of it.”

“I know.” Sabrina said into her shoulder. “And I’m  _ sorry _ . I’m sorry I’m leaving while everything’s still so-” she bit off the end of that sentence. “I just- I can’t  _ be  _ here now. I can’t just- just go back to the way things were, even if we could. If it wasn’t Lucifer, it’d be something else. I just-” she breathed in, deep. “I want to  _ understand _ . What I am, now I’m not...what I always thought I was. Maybe Lucifer can help with that. And since it’s pretty clear we don’t know nearly as much about the workings of Hell as we thought we did, I can’t learn that here. And I-”

“He’s your father,” Aunt Zelda said, a little sadly. “You want to know him. I understand.”

Sabrina nodded, looking down at her hands. 

It still felt a little like a betrayal, honestly. And it wasn’t- She didn’t love Edward Spellman any less because Lucifer was here, and she had the chance to know her biological father in a way she never had with the legal one. But that didn’t make the feeling go away.

“So- I can go?” she asked, casting a look over at Aunt Zelda, whose shoulders slumped, just a little, as she looked back.

“...let me talk to your Aunt Hilda,” she said after a few moments. “She has a talent for protection charms. And you’re to take all precautions while you’re away. Just- Just for our peace of mind.”

Sabrina didn’t know how many of those precautions would even  _ work  _ against Lucifer, but it seemed a small enough price to pay.

“Okay.” She paused. “Are...are  _ you  _ going to be okay?”

Aunt Zelda was still. “...yes, I expect I will be,” she said at last. “It...it’s only a matter of time. And...you’re quite right, Sabrina. There  _ is  _ nothing you can do.”

That...really hadn’t been what Sabrina had been driving at, but she couldn’t see what she  _ could  _ do, in the face of what had happened to Aunt Zelda. She couldn’t even begin to understand it, and Aunt Zelda would never  _ talk  _ to her about it. And who else  _ could  _ she talk to, that wouldn’t just dismiss the whole thing as delusion? She’d heard what Theo said about the asylum they’d meant to send Jesse Putnam to. She’d die before she saw Aunt Zelda sent to a place like that. And Aunt Zelda was proud. She wouldn’t want the coven to see her weak. And she would think of it as weakness, that she’d been trapped and alone and far from all her friends. How had it happened, Sabrina wondered. Had Aunt Zelda known as Blackwood put her under, or had she simply woken one morning to find her body moving without her conscious input, the sickly tune of that little music box running inexorably through her head? She didn’t know. And she couldn’t ask.

“I’m just going to…” she started, gesturing vaguely towards the door.

“Of course,” Aunt Zelda agreed, just a little too quickly. “You will want to see your mortal friends, and tell them about your plans…”

Sabrina’s stomach dropped. Right. Her friends. Her friends who already weren’t keen on Lucifer, didn’t trust him, and...honestly, had their reasons not to. Her friends, who things were already rough with, after the missionaries, and their fight before that, and- and  _ everything  _ that had happened to them since they found out. And now Sabrina was going to be leaving for what might be a matter of months. A lot could change over one summer. A lot  _ had  _ changed, just since Christmas. What would she be coming back to, if she left now?

She shook herself. She was being stupid. She’d been friends with Roz and Harvey and Theo since they’d all been tiny. Witchcraft hadn’t changed it, so why would this? They’d survived Roz going away to Bible camp for the summer, why not this? She’d tell them, and maybe they wouldn’t be keen, but they’d stay friends. They always had before.

She ran into Melvin as she was leaving Aunt Zelda’s room - quite literally, she ploughed straight into him, not realising he was there until it was too late to stop.

“Sorry!” she managed, offering a hand to heave him up. “I just didn’t see you- Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and not the friendly kind-”

Melvin stared at her outstretched hand as if it were something poisonous, scrambling desperately up to his feet.

“N-no,” he said hastily. “I’m- I’m fine, really. I’m sorry!” he blurted out, still wide-eyed and terrified. “Please, don’t-”

“Don’t  _ what _ ?” Sabrina asked, irritated. “Come on, Melvin, you  _ know  _ me, I’m not going to do anything.”

He hadn’t seemed this afraid of her after she had literally _ brought him back from the dead _ . All right, yes, that might be partly gratitude for not being dead anymore, but surely this wasn’t a bigger deal than her being able to resurrect the dead, not with the power she’d gained from the coming apocalypse draining away like water from a floodplain.

“...s-sure,” Melvin stuttered out, avoiding her eyes. “Yeah. I know. Um…was it true?”

Sabrina blinked. “...which bit?” she settled on, at last. No point asking ‘was what true’. Only one thing Melvin could be talking about. Lucifer’s little address to the assembled coven had been the biggest thing to happen all day.

“...about you. And the Dark Lord. That...that you’re the only reason he’s here at all.”

Sabrina sighed. “Sort of?” she tried. “I mean...he got summoned here because of a prophecy. That his daughter would open the Gates of Hell. He’s sticking around because…” she paused. “Well, mostly because he hasn’t got around to organising a plane back to California, honestly. It’s fine. He’ll be leaving soon, I expect. And I’ll be going with him, just for the summer.”

It was easier to say, this time. Maybe because Melvin wasn’t going to be all that affected by it, or maybe it was just the repetition. It still made it feel that bit more real. She was going to LA, with the Devil. She was going to see LA, see the sea for the first time in her life, go on her first plane ride since she was a baby and her parents’ flight had gone down over the Atlantic. There was so  _ much  _ she was about to do that she’d never done before, and even if the circumstances were terrible, she couldn’t  _ not  _ be a little excited for it.

“To- to Hell?”

“What- No, to LA.” Sabrina grinned. “I’ll send you all a postcard. Would the Hollywood sign be too cliche?”

Melvin just looked that bit more terrified. “Ye- No! No, it wouldn’t. That is- I’m sure whatever you want will be just fine, uh, ma’am-”

“ _ Ma’am _ ? Melvin, I’m  _ younger  _ than you! What’s going on?”

It was a stupid question. What was going on was that Sabrina was the Antichrist. And the Dark Lord himself had just turned up, announced to everyone that he had absolutely no interest in any of them, but for some reason still gave a damn about Sabrina. It would terrify anyone. She wasn’t quite sure, still, why it didn’t terrify her.

Except that it was Lucifer, and he was- nothing about him felt the way Baphomet had. Even before they’d started talking, when he’d just arrived, he hadn’t been  _ frightening _ . Just...weird. Barefoot and scruffy and sarcastic and real. He’d felt...everyday, ordinary, even though she’d never met him before in her life and there was  _ nothing  _ ordinary about the way Lucifer carried on. She could roll her eyes at him and talk and listen and it felt...normal. Surprisingly nice. Like talking to Ambrose, a little, because neither of her aunties would come out with half of what Lucifer did, but different too. She found herself wondering again what it would’ve been to grow up with him. Not- not full-time, she wouldn’t change Ambrose and her aunties for anything, but...just for visits, the way things might go, if this summer worked out.

“N-nothing!” Melvin protested. “There’s nothing...that is...I…”

Sabrina flicked a hand at him. “It’s fine, Melvin. Just- Just go back to the others.”

He complied without even saying goodbye, his shoes skidding over the rugs, not quite a run but clearly fleeing the scene.

Sabrina glared after him. Great. Brilliant. Marvellous. Was  _ anyone  _ ever going to treat her like a normal person after this?

Just her family, she supposed. Thank Sa- Go-  _ somebody  _ that they hadn’t changed, at least. Her friends...things had been awkward, last night at Doctor Cee’s. But that was just the newness of it. They’d taken her witch in stride at first, and only panicked later, so panicking first meant they’d get used to it later. She had to believe that. They’d get used to it, they only needed time, and they’d have that. She’d come back at the end of the summer, and things would be- not normal, but  _ right  _ again, if they’d ever been right. If they could ever find their way there.

“Sabrina! Are you...are you up there, my love?”

Sabrina rubbed her face. “Coming, Aunt Hilda!” she called back. She didn’t have a clue what Aunt Hilda wanted, but it had to be better than standing around worrying.

When Sabrina got down to the kitchen, passing Elspeth and a couple of the other girls on the way - all of whom avoided her eyes and kept a wide berth, as though Sabrina was going to turn around and start spitting acid at them. Maybe they believed she would, Sabrina didn’t know - she found Aunt Hilda elbow-deep in flour and looking frazzled.

“There you are, lamb - can you do a  _ tiny  _ favour for me?”

Sabrina sighed. “Where’s the shopping list?” she asked, resigned. She should’ve expected it - Aunt Hilda’s vegetable pie involved half a dozen ingredients Sabrina would probably have never even heard of if she wasn’t the one sent to get them half the time.

“What- No, no, that’s not it.” 

Aunt Hilda gestured towards the other end of the kitchen, “I need you to take Lucifer, and get him out of the house,” she said hurriedly. “Preferably before he finds the rest of the rum I’m using to get the finish. He’s doing a sterling job with making chips, but I’m a bit worried if he keeps going we’re not going to have a spice rack left worth speaking of, so if you could just…”

“I’ll distract him,” Sabrina agreed. She might as well. “What sort of time do you need us back by?”

Aunt Hilda made a checking-her-watch motion, despite not wearing a watch. “Ooh...say half six, seven at the latest? Thank you for doing this for me, love, really.”

“It’s fine, Aunt Hilda. I’ll get him out of your hair.”

What she was supposed to  _ do  _ with Lucifer until then, she wasn’t sure, but there were some things to do in Greendale, no matter how much he might turn his nose up at them. Besides. What was it to  _ her  _ if he turned his nose up at Doctor Cerberus’s and the Paramount, and all her other haunts in Greendale? If it wasn’t good enough for him, it was good enough for her, and that was all it had to be. She had nothing to prove to him. It was just- She wasn’t insecure, and it wasn’t that she didn’t think her home was good enough for him - if there ought to be any concern, it would be the other way around, given the guy had lived in Hell for most of eternity - it was just...she wanted to keep liking Lucifer. Not even just for the sake of getting out, spending that summer away from all the crap she’d been put through since her Baptism. Maybe she really was making the mistake Ambrose had warned her against, wanting her father around so much she was ignoring all the warning signs, but...she didn’t think that was it, either. She hadn’t been lying - if it did come down to Lucifer or her aunts, she’d pick her aunts - but she didn’t  _ want  _ it to come to that.

“I’ll take him to Doctor Cerberus’s,” she decided, “Might as well. Not much else is open right now. Lucifer!” she called, and stuck her head around the kitchen door. “I’m going out, want to come?”

Lucifer looked up. “...there’s somewhere  _ to  _ go around here?”

“Sure there is.” Sabrina grinned. “Let me show you the best place in town.”

*

“...I think this might actually be the smallest human settlement I’ve ever visited,” Lucifer said, as they crossed over into Greendale proper.

Sabrina looked sideways at him. “...weren’t you around for the Eden thing?”

“That wasn’t really a settlement so much as a love nest. Well. Sex and bickering nest.” Lucifer smirked reminiscently to himself. “Another interesting couple. Not quite as flexible as-”

“Can I just put a ban on all discussion of my conception?” Sabrina cut in hastily. Why, oh,  _ why _ , could her parents not have gone the immaculate conception route? It worked for the opposition. “I mean, I know that angels don’t have…”

“Believe me, I am  _ painfully  _ aware that my parents had sex.” Lucifer grimaced. “I  _ remain  _ painfully aware that my mother is having sex. With Dan Espinoza, of all people.”

Sabrina’s brain skidded to a halt. “You have a- I mean...the False God is a woman, or-?”

“No, different person. And, I told you, nothing ‘false’ about them.” Lucifer gave her a sideways look. “The Big Bang. Not just a euphemism.”

Sabrina wrinkled her nose. “...ew. So...I have grandparents? I mean...I have grandparents, but...one of them is on Earth?”

It was very strange, thinking of it like that. The False God was her grandfather. Apparently there was also a Goddess who’d been left out of everything Sabrina had ever heard. Not that Sabrina had ever put much of her faith in the Satanic Scriptures, but...this was a whole new aspect of reality she’d never even considered before.

“She is. Dad had her thrown into Hell after a few plagues too many. Not the first ten, Dad liked those. Or he was willing to use them. Ten of one, half a score of the other…”

Sabrina blinked. “...none of the scriptures ever mentioned her. I mean, the Satanic ones. I don’t pay much attention to the other kind. I suppose that might just be the whole patriarchy thing the Churches of Darkness have going on…”   
“Got it in one.” Lucifer snorted. “You humans have the strangest hang-ups. Then again, Dad  _ does  _ have his issues with women. Look at Lilith. She got kicked out of Eden just like I did in Heaven, and all because she didn’t fancy following Adam’s rules. Never mind that Adam was created the same time she was and nobody ever  _ said  _ he was in charge…”

Sabrina scowled. “Yeah,” she said darkly. “That sounds familiar.” And then, before the mood could get dragged down any further. “So...can I meet her?”

There was a very long pause. When she glanced over at him, Lucifer was looking...not worried, not exactly. But like somebody who was trying very hard to convince himself there was nothing to be worried about.

“...meeting your grandmother,” he repeated. “Might...not be the best idea.”

Sabrina blinked. “What? Why not? If she’s around, I mean, and there’s no way she doesn’t know about me if she’s got the omniscience thing too-”

“Mum...is somewhat limited, power-wise, right now. At full power, you’d be right, but since she got out of Hell she’s stuck being...mostly human.” Lucifer grimaced. “As for ‘why not’, she’s a vicious, manipulative schemer who’d probably be quite happy to see this whole world burn if it meant she could get me to go back to the Silver City with her and Amenadiel! She’s already tried destroying my home and blowing up my- blowing up the Detective so we can all go back to Heaven and she can ‘get her family back’...”

“And I don’t count as family?” Sabrina asked, a little stung, but not surprised, not really. It was what the Plague Kings had said already. She was half-human. Apparently that was going to be a disadvantage in any company.

Lucifer blinked. “...that is right,” he said, in a wondering sort of tone. “I mean...she didn’t react that brilliantly to the idea last time, but...well, if she’s sleeping with  _ Dan  _ she can hardly complain now…actually, she was all but throwing human women at me after she first got here, so...you might be right, hellspawn. Maybe Mum  _ has  _ changed her mind. Still doesn’t mean I want to go back with her,” he added. “Have you ever seen- Well, I know you’ve never seen the SIlver City, but-”

“What’s it like?” Sabrina asked, caught. Heaven was one place no witch had ever seen. The Church of Night made it out to be something like Hell turned inside-out, a place of perfect uniformity, unchanged, all individual stamped out into one single-minded mass, praising the glory of their False God.

Lucifer froze for a moment. “...cold,” he said at last, his voice distant. “Very bright, and very cold.” He snorted. “Dad went really overboard on the spires and towers. Had a real thing for those. Probably compensating for something, though quite what an incorporeal deity has to compensate for I’m still not sure I know…” he shook himself. “And boring. Really,  _ really  _ boring. I’m better off out of it.”

He set his jaw, looking a little too determined. Maybe he even meant it. Sabrina didn’t know.

“Okay,” she said, rather than try and dig into any of that, because Lucifer’s emotional damage _ wasn’t her problem _ . “So that’s a definite maybe on meeting the rest of the extended family. Are you just going to pretend I’m not there all summer?”

“No…” Lucifer said slowly. “I suppose not. That’s not the same thing as wanting to spend much time with her. I’m still quite sure she’s got some sort of scheme in the works I’ll need to figure out when I get back…”

“Then let me help! I’m  _ good  _ at schemes, trust me.” Sabrina nudged him. “I  _ did  _ tell you about the Batibat thing?”

“You did. The Goddess of Creation might be a  _ little  _ bit out of your league…”

“The Apocalypse wasn’t! Besides, I thought you said she was human now.”

Lucifer made a so-so gesture. “ _ Mostly _ human. And she’s still quite capable of trying to blow up my nightclub and everyone in it, so…”

“Wait, really?”

If Sabrina had been hoping for a drama-free summer, she reflected, she might need to keep hoping.

They’d drawn level with Cerberus Books by now, and Lucifer stopped to look up at the sign. 

“...you were not lying about being a horror expert, were you?” he said, wry. “So, does this place have the real stuff, or is it fiction only?”

Sabrina shrugged. “I mean, Doctor Cee’s possessed by an incubus? There was an incident with an occult tome...pretty sure he doesn’t keep them in the front of house anymore, though.”

“...an incubus,” Lucifer said flatly. “I thought you said you’d already done one exorcism…”

“I mean...it doesn’t seem to be hurting him?” Sabrina said defensively. “Aunt Hilda figured out a way to stop him from hurting her when they...and it actually saved both their lives when the witch-hunters came. So...not really a problem? I mean, so far as I can tell the incubus isn’t even a separate personality, it’s just...something that happens to him sometimes. And I  _ really  _ don’t think Doctor Cee would fit in in Hell.”

“If he’s anything like his literary counterpart, you’re probably right.”

Sabrina blinked. “...you mean, the  _ actual  _ Cerberus? Isn’t that Greek? I mean, not that that means he  _ can’t  _ exist, but…not in Hell, right?”

“What- No, no, I meant Hilda’s romance novel. I think I finally understand the reasons behind her choice of romantic lead. Are we going in?”

“What- Oh, right. Yeah, we should probably…” 

The bell jingled as they went in, and Doctor Cerberus looked up excitedly from behind the counter. 

“Oh,” he said, his face falling. “I...I thought you were Hilda.”

Lucifer smirked. “Sorry to disappoint you.” He looked Doctor Cerberus up and down, and the smirk widened. “She really  _ is  _ infatuated, isn’t she?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sabrina said quickly. “Uh...Doctor Cee, this...is my dad. He’s...visiting.”

Doctor Cerberus frowned. “I...thought Hilda’s brother was dead. I mean...I’m very relieved that you aren’t,” he added. “But she’s always made it sound as if…”

“Oh, he is,” Lucifer said, with obnoxious cheerfulness. 

“It’s a long story,” Sabrina interrupted, before he could go on. “I’m just...showing him around town. Why, is everything all right?”

“Fine, fine, I just...she hasn’t been in in a few days, and I was wondering if there was some sort of...well,  _ witchcraft  _ crisis.” His voice dropped to a whisper on ‘witchcraft’.

“Can the end of the world be classified as a ‘witchcraft crisis’?” Lucifer wondered aloud, glancing around the store with interest. “More of a crisis for everyone, but I suppose since the only people who noticed it happened were witches…”

“It counts,” Sabrina said flatly. “It’s fine, it’s over,” she added, “Aunt Hilda is just- a lot of our coven got hurt during it, and she’s trying to hold things together. I’m sure she’ll come see you as soon as she can.”

“Maybe I could go see her?” Doctor Cerberus looked around. “It’s been a slow day, and if she’s in trouble…”

Sabrina shrugged. “One more for dinner, I guess,” she said, flashing a brief smile. It might make things at least a  _ little  _ less awkward, and even if it didn’t, Aunt Hilda would be glad to see him. “It’s...I’m sure she’ll want to explain everything herself. We’ll just…” she made a vague gesture. “Stick around? Browse? Luc-  _ Dad  _ expressed an interest in your occult books?”

Doctor Cerberus smiled, wide and genuine. “Of course - They’re back here. I don’t keep them in the main store anymore, not since...well. Not since. I keep meaning to go through them with Hilda, so we can figure out which ones are dangerous and which ones aren’t, but somehow we never seem to find the time…”

“I bet you don’t,” Lucifer muttered, his mouth curling up at one side. “If even half of that story was taken from life…”

“Can we  _ please  _ presume that it wasn’t?” Sabrina muttered. She liked Doctor Cerberus, and there were some things she really,  _ really  _ didn’t need to picture.

Doctor Cerberus didn’t seem to have heard her. “So, where have you been all this time? Not that I’m looking to pry, or anything, but Hilda always gave the impression that you were...a bit more permanently out of the picture.”   
“Hell, for the first decade or so. Then Los Angeles.” Lucifer grinned. He was  _ enjoying  _ this, Sabrina realised. “I’m surprised your incubus doesn’t already know me-”

“Well, he clearly  _ doesn’t _ ,” Sabrina said through gritted teeth, “So can we just take a look at these books, please? We won’t damage them,” she added. 

“Especially not if doing so releases another demon,” Lucifer put in helpfully. “You’d be amazed how many of them have got themselves bound to various occult tomes down the centuries. Well. Perhaps  _ you  _ wouldn’t be. But I expect somebody would.”

Doctor Cerberus grinned. “ _ Mr B. Gone _ was always a favourite of mine,” he agreed, “Though I don’t normally go for Barker’s style of horror - he’s a bit heavy on the gross-out factor for my tastes. I do like the central conceit of that one, though. Sabrina, have you-”

“I’ve read it,” Sabrina agreed. “And I don’t  _ think  _ I’ve met any demons like that, but I’m not really an expert. I’d only just started demonology classes when I did my first exorcism, and it’s been pretty much wall-to-wall crises since then, so…”

“...right.” Doctor Cerberus nodded. “I’ll just...leave you to it, then. Oh- If you turn up anything dangerous…”

“We’ll tell you,” Sabrina promised. “The last thing this town needs is another demon running amuck- Uh. Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Oh, it’s fine.”

Lucifer watched Doctor Cee go with an odd look on his face.

“...is there  _ anyone  _ in this town who doesn’t have some sort of tie to Hell?” he asked.

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “We’re living on the literal Gates of Hell, what were you expecting?”

“Should I expect Buffy to come along any minute?”

Sabrina shrugged. “I mean...I did  _ tell  _ you we had a witch-hunter problem.” She paused, and then. “...the Devil watches  _ Buffy _ ?”

“My friend Miss Lopez recommended it to me.” Lucifer picked up the nearest book and leafed through it. “And I think you’ll find the Devil does whatever he damn well likes.”

Well,  _ that  _ didn’t sound defensive in the least.

Sabrina shifted. It wasn’t, she told herself, that she wanted him to verbally approve of Doctor Cee’s. She still didn’t need his approval, and it wasn’t as though she hadn’t heard every eye-rolling comment Aunt Zelda had made about the place since Sabrina had first discovered it. She just- She’d wanted him to see it, because it was one of her favourite places. And now she wanted to know what he thought of it.

“How  _ do  _ you people come up with all this?” Lucifer said, out of nowhere, staring down at the book. “I can assure whoever wrote this one, I am the only angel in Hell. Or I was. Amenadiel took a turn for a while...no idea who Dad’s going to saddle with the job when he notices I put Lilith in charge. I hope it’s Michael.”

Sabrina frowned. “...I can’t tell if that means you like Michael or not.”

“He’s the one who threw me out of the Silver City, so I wouldn’t call myself his biggest fan.” Lucifer scowled. “He’s a self-righteous, hypocritical, inflexible arse. So, fairly standard by angel standards, really, except that Michael is quite possibly the high king and lord of the land of the self-righteous prigs. Be grateful I’m no longer on speaking terms with that side of the family, hellspawn, because your life would not be worth living if I was.”

“...all I needed was ‘no, I don’t like Michael’. That is literally all you needed to say.” Sabrina huffed a breath. “But, okay, Michael. Not on the Solstice card list. Got it. Guessing that means the whole ‘war in heaven’ thing was another exaggeration?”   
Lucifer looked squirrelly. “...no, that part happened. If...not exactly as described. Why are you taking such an interest? I didn’t think you were interested in the ancient history.”

“I’m not...or I wasn’t, before the major players turned out to be my relatives.” Sabrina shrugged. “I guess I just want to know if the Archangel Gabriel is going to turn up and want his horn back.”

“If he does, don’t give it to him. He’s a  _ terrible  _ musician. The last thing the world needs, upon being saved from the Apocalypse, is to have it all start all over again because bloody Gabriel is suffering from delusions of musical competence.”

That, to Sabrina’s mind, still left one pressing problem.   
“So...what do we do with the Horn? I mean...we can’t just leave it out in the middle of the woods, a thing like that wants to be  _ used _ . I mean- Somebody’s bound to find it…”   
“And celestial objects do have some very unfortunate effects on mortal brains,” Lucifer agreed, looking slightly distant for a moment before snapping back to himself. “I’ll find somewhere for it. What’s one more piece of celestial hardware at this point?”

Sabrina crossed her arms. “Ominous  _ and  _ vague. Not a great combination. What other ‘celestial hardware’ do you even  _ have _ ?”

“Azrael’s blade.”

It took Sabrina a moment to place the name, but then...nobody had ever mentioned the name of the Red Angel of Death when the Greendale Thirteen brought it down on them.

“...the Angel of Death,” she said. “You- That was- How did you-  _ When  _ did you get your hands on that?”

A change seemed to come over Lucifer’s face at that. A sort of distance behind the eyes.

“...a little before last Halloween,” he said, in a low, pained voice.

Before Halloween. The blade had been with him the whole time, before the angel had ever been brought down on them. 

“And-”

“It’s done with.” Lucifer said, clipped. “I have the blade. I think that’s all anyone needs to know about it.”

All the alarm bells in Sabrina’s head went off at once.

“...how does a thing like that even get to Earth?” she demanded. “I mean...guessing it...that Azrael usually has it, right?”

“You would think that,” Lucifer agreed, with a poor imitation of his usual breeziness, like wallpapering over rotting wood. “And you would be wrong. Rae- Azrael doesn’t actually like violence that much. Or she didn’t, the last time I saw her. It’s been a few thousand years, so she might’ve changed. She usually just left the blade in her cell. I suppose that’s how-” he broke off.

Sabrina blinked. “The Angel of Death...doesn’t like violence.”

“It’s not as though  _ she’s  _ the one killing people!”

Sabrina snorted. “Yeah, she seemed  _ really  _ friendly last time she was in Greendale.”

Lucifer put down the book and stared at her.

“ _ Azrael _ . Was in Greendale.”

Sabrina shifted. “Well,  _ something  _ calling itself the Red Angel of Death was!”

Lucifer blinked. “The  _ red  _ Angel of Death?” he repeated. “...not a name of hers I know.”

“That’s what Ambrose called it.” Sabrina scowled. “And of  _ course  _ Father Blackwood just wanted to leave all the mortals to be slaughtered while the coven hid at the Academy. It was why I…” Sabrina touched her hair, self-conscious. She wasn’t- She was mostly over the change, now. Sometimes she could even say she preferred it. But at the time...it had just been the most obvious physical manifestation of how she’d changed. At the time she’d leant into it, tried to be Weird Sister the Fourth, but it hadn’t suited her, and by Yule she’d been back to her usual self in all respects but one. She swallowed. “It was supposed to slaughter every firstborn child in Greendale.”

“That one  _ was  _ Mum, originally,” Lucifer said, frowning. “Not the one that got her kicked out, since it conveniently targeted someone Dad wanted smote. I think that was the last time those two actually  _ agreed  _ on something. So, I can’t help but notice the town looks surprisingly un-ravaged, all things considered…”

“I managed to stop it! It was- Okay. The Greendale Thirteen rose from the grave, and summoned the Red Angel of Death. I signed the Book of the Beast so I could deal with the Thirteen, and that got rid of the angel.” Sabrina rubbed her face. “Do you want more details, or can we move on?”

“Not Azrael, then,” Lucifer said, almost dismissively. “She’s an archangel, and the day she can be bound and summoned by a handful of human- Wait. What did you say,  _ you  _ signed-”

“It was the only way!” Sabrina yelled at him. “If I didn’t- The whole  _ town  _ was probably going to die, I couldn’t just- What, you think I wanted to? I had spent  _ months  _ trying to get out signing that stupid book! Trying to find some- some way to keep my freedom, so Lilith forced my hand! Haven’t you ever-” she cut herself off, and laughed bitterly. “Of course you haven’t. There are- There are things- Sometimes the price of holding out is just...too much.”

An odd look flickered across Lucifer’s face. “...I know more about that than I ever wanted to,” he muttered. “Anyway, good news, your soul is fine. Or at least, no worse than it was before you signed the book, and since no-one can  _ own  _ a soul, it’s not mine to give back anyway.”

Sabrina wanted to ask more about what Lucifer, who had never bent his pride for man, beast or god, could know about paying too high a price for defiance to seem worth it, but before she could, Lucifer had already changed the subject.

“The Kiss of Shame, really?  _ Please  _ tell me Baphomet didn’t demand this of your coven too, or I’ll lose what little respect I still have for them…”

He’d found another tome on witchcraft, then, Sabrina thought.

“Ew, no. Even  _ our  _ coven felt that was demeaning and old-fashioned.”   
“Especially when the recipient is mostly a goat!” Lucifer shook his head. “A thousand years of the goat thing, and  _ this  _ is who was responsible! I really should’ve taken longer over killing him.”

“ _ I _ killed him,” Sabrina reminded him, and there was fierce pride in that along with the slight, sick feeling she’d felt as she’d drawn the knife across Agatha’s throat, even knowing that she would be resurrected. “And I didn’t want to waste time.”

“Yes…” Lucifer’s eyes flicked over to her. “...you’re dealing with it surprisingly well. Most humans react a little more strongly, the first time they kill something. Even the unrepentant ones usually feel  _ something _ .”

Sabrina shrugged. “Guess I’m just special that way,” she said, brittle, trying not to think of the feeling of flesh giving under the edge of her knife, and the awful wait for Agatha to rise from the Cain Pit, because however much Sabrina might loathe her for what she’d done, she’d never meant to see her permanently  _ dead _ .

“...apparently,” Lucifer said at last, still not looking convinced, but apparently willing to pretend. “Who-”

He broke off.

There came the jingling of a bell from the main part of the shop, and then the sound of voices- Familiar voices, Sabrina thought, and her stomach clenched. Roz and Harvey. Here on a date? Did it matter? It was only going to make things awkward to go out there now.

Lucifer was halfway across the room before Sabrina saw him move, was out the door before she could follow him, and she heard his voice clear from the next room.   
“Ah! Sabrina’s little friends, back again. Is this really where teenagers choose to spend their time in this town? An occult bookshop?”

“There’s a diner in here too,” Sabrina heard Roz say, defensively.

“Honestly, you should come for a visit too. Broaden your minds a bit. I mean...a  _ bookshop _ , really? How little is there to  _ do  _ in this town-?”

“What are you doing here?” That was Harvey’s voice. “Have you been  _ following  _ us?”

“Why would I want to do that? You’re really not that interesting, and I’ve had other things to do.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. Of  _ course  _ that would be his defence. She still wasn’t keen to go out there. Not that hiding behind Lucifer was that great a look for her, but nor was inadvertently interrupting her best friend on a date with her boyfriend.  _ Ex _ -boyfriend. Even knowing Roz was sorry for ever suspecting her...it was hard to forget that she’d thought Sabrina petty and vicious enough to blind her, because she’d kissed a boy Sabrina used to like. Sabrina didn’t want to hold onto the grudge. Maybe that was just another reason to go away, so she could let herself start to forget.

“I don’t know, because we’re Sabrina’s friends? And you can’t have that, can you? You don’t want her to have other people in her life, and that’s why you’re here? Trying to turn us against her-”

“By the sound of it, all I’d need to do is stand back and watch you ruin things for yourselves.” There was a biting edge to Lucifer’s voice now. “I’m far from an expert on friendship, but I  _ do  _ know that nobody likes being accused of crimes they didn’t commit.”

Sabrina grimaced. Great. So much for not dredging that one up.

“So you’re telling us that it’s a  _ coincidence _ ?” Roz snapped. “You turn up, and suddenly Sabrina’s whole coven gets poisoned? All at once? Because of some mysterious ‘impostor’ who said something to her priest?” 

“Not exactly a coincidence, since the impostor was the whole reason I was here in the first place…” a pause. “Well, that and the prophecy he was trying to take advantage of. I expect he thought I was either dead already or that it wouldn’t  _ actually  _ drag me all the way from Vegas, but either way, nothing he did was  _ anything  _ to do with me! I keep having to explain this!”

“And we’re supposed to...what, believe you?” Harvey demanded. “Whatever you want with Sabrina, it can’t be anything good-”

“Can’t it?” A snort. “Of course. I’m the Devil, so everything I do has to have some nefarious ulterior motive...she’s my  _ daughter _ . What evil plans do you imagine I have for her?”

Sabrina couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that one. It wasn’t as though that had stopped Father Blackwood from letting all manner of things happen to Prudence, after all. He’d have let Lady Blackwood murder her outright, if it hadn’t meant profaning a feast day, Sabrina thought, and even then he’d been willing enough to kill and eat her before he knew the lottery was rigged.

“You tell us.”

A pause.

“...all right,” Lucifer said, viciously pleasant. “We’re going back to LA. For the summer, or for however long she wants. Maybe she’ll send you a postcard, though that’s entirely up to her-”

“ _ Lucifer _ !” Sabrina yelled, and then wished she hadn’t. Why had she let them know she was listening in? Now, not only was there going to be awkwardness, but she’d have to explain why she’d been eavesdropping.

“I- Sabrina?” that was Harvey. Well, no sense in hiding now.

When she came out into the main body of the store, Lucifer was leaning against the counter, looking somewhere between smug and sulky, and Roz and Harvey had drawn together like huddling mice before the cat, staring between him and Sabrina. She hated that they were afraid of her.

“Is...is it true?” Harvey asked, looking at her as if she had become, all at once, unrecognisable. “You’re- You’re going with him?”

“Just for the summer,” Sabrina said, awkward. “We can stay in touch, though! I mean, not just postcards. I’ll call-”

“Are you  _ serious _ ?” Harvey demanded. “Sabrina, he’s- he the Devil! The actual,  _ literal  _ Devil!”

“Yeah, I know.” Sabrina folded her arms. “Look, you had no problem with my family  _ worshipping  _ the guy…”

“That was-” Harvey started, but apparently ran out of steam trying to describe what that was.

“The thing is,” Roz said carefully, keeping her eyes on Lucifer, “When- When you talk about serving the Dark Lord...I sort of assumed it was the same thing as me and my dad technically serving God. I mean...we do our best, and we try to live faithful lives, but we don’t expect  _ God  _ to drop in for a visit…”

“Probably for the best,” Lucifer agreed. “He’s terrible company, really. I’m much more fun.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes at him. “You’re drinking my aunts out of house and home. And I’m pretty sure the coven is going to have a crisis once they’ve figured out what you were saying…”

“Like I said, fun.”

“And anyway,” Harvey broke in, “You were never into all that stuff! Isn’t that- I mean, I don’t think you ever had anything nice to say about your aunts’ religion. And you kept blaming the Dark Lord for things, ever since we found out about the witchcraft thing-”

“I know! But that’s…that wasn’t Lucifer. He’s been in LA for what, five years now?”

“Six,” Lucifer corrected.

“Six  _ years _ ! He wasn’t in on any of this - he hasn’t even  _ been  _ in Hell in all that time!”

“Yeah, according to him!” Harvey gestured at Lucifer. “Even if he wasn’t  _ literal Satan _ , you  _ just  _ met this guy! Now you’re moving all the way across the country because of him?”

“Yeah.” Sabrina put her chin up, her shoulders back. “Yeah, that’s...more-or-less exactly what I’m doing. For the summer. I’ll be back when school starts again, but I’ll stay in touch. We can still call. Email.”

“Skype,” Lucifer suggested. “Do you have Skype here?”

“Why wouldn’t we have-?”

“I don’t trust him, Sabrina,” Harvey said, his voice low and pained.

Maybe Sabrina should’ve reached out then, but she was still so keyed up, so tired, and even if she’d forgiven them...she hadn’t forgotten. They hadn’t trusted her, either.

“That’s not your decision to make,” she said coolly. “Dad,” she added, turning to Lucifer, who looked honestly taken aback. Still not used to it, maybe. It sounded weird to Sabrina, too. “I think we can go now. Maybe we can take in a movie before we head back?”

Lucifer recovered quickly, though he still cast a glance at her friends before replying. “Your Aunt Hilda still wants me out of the kitchen, does she? Besides, I thought you wanted to show me more of Westbridge…”

“Greendale,” Sabrina corrected, and squinted at him. “...how did you even get ‘Westbridge’ from that?”

Lucifer shrugged. Ok, not answering. Great. She was honestly starting to believe he was just screwing with her at this stage in the proceedings. 

“Anyway,” she ploughed on, “There’s...really not all that much else? I mean, there’s here and the Paramount, and Persephone’s - that’s the local pizza place, but it’s not...I mean, they mostly deliver anyway. There used to be a pretty sweet teashop, but it turned out to be being run by an ancient Welsh luck demon and I  _ really  _ don’t think it was your kind of place…”

She couldn’t picture Lucifer at the Bishop’s Daughter Coffee and Teas. It was hard enough seeing him here, at Doctor Cerberus’s, even with the visual proof right there in front of her. It was like picturing a tiger roaming the halls of Baxter High, something so far out of its natural habitat it might as well have come from a different sphere.

“Tearooms generally aren’t,” Lucifer agreed, “Although I used to be quite fond of coffee houses. They went downhill after they stopped being hotbeds of anti-government sedition and conspiracy, admittedly…”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Of course  _ you  _ were a fan of that.”

“I was the original rebel without a cause,” Lucifer agreed. “Before I was the original rebel  _ with  _ a cause, anyway. So, the pictures it is. Is there anything decent on? We  _ are  _ in the slow season, and since nobody here owes me a favour that I know of…”

“Sabrina,” Roz said, low, “I- I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“I definitely know it isn’t,” Harvey muttered.

Sabrina shot a look at him. “I thought we established, that’s not your decision - Roz, does...did your cunning show you anything?”

“No…” Roz shook her head. “No, it’s not...it’s on the fritz, but Sabrina, what if- What if he’s the reason? What if he’s...he’s doing it to me, on purpose, so I can’t warn you? It- It can’t be a coincidence, can it?”   
“Like it ‘couldn’t be coincidence’ when you went blind the same day you kissed my ex?”

The moment it was said, she regretted it. It wasn’t- The timing  _ had  _ been suspicious, she could acknowledge that now, and Roz had just lost her eyesight and it had been  _ hard _ , and Sabrina hadn’t been there. She’d thought she was  _ over  _ this. She  _ wanted  _ to be over this.   
Roz flinched back as if she’d been slapped. “...that’s not...it’s not the same thing. Sabrina, you know I’d never have said that if-”

“I know,” Sabrina said, too quickly. “I know, I just…” she huffed out a breath. “I’m going,” she said, exhausted. “Good idea or not. So unless you’ve had an actual vision showing Lucifer...I don’t know, what is there left to do to me at this stage?”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “... _ hopefully _ , you aren’t going to find out,” he said, voice icy.

Harvey’s expression grew even more mulish. “That’s on you,” he said shortly. “I don’t know about anyone else, but  _ I’m  _ not about to start trusting that the Devil is a good guy just like that.”

_ Just because Sabrina says so _ , that meant. Which- After Tommy, she felt like a heel for grudging it. 

“Well, lucky for all of us,  _ you  _ don’t have to,” she said shortly. “I- I’ll see you before I go, all right? Both of you, and Theo - I still need to tell him - but I’m not just...just running off. I’ll stay in touch, if there’s any serious trouble here, I’m just a phone call away, or- or my aunties can probably handle it.”

“Or  _ I  _ could,” Lucifer put in. “If it’s serious enough to warrant summoning Sabrina back across the entire Continental United States. And if the world appears to be menaced as often as most urban fantasy fiction would suggest…”

“The end of the world would get in the way of that intensive orgy schedule?” Harvey parroted, glaring.

“Exactly!” Lucifer grinned the wide, friendly grin of the born bastard. “Besides, as father-daughter bonding activities go, preventing apocalypses appears to have been the most successful so far…”

“There was no  _ bonding _ !” Sabrina muttered. They’d tramped through quite a lot of woodland together, and then killed Baphomet. She didn’t remember any  _ bonding  _ happening.

Lucifer actually had the nerve to look hurt. “And here I assumed you’d have thrown me out on my ear if I hadn’t helped.”

...he wasn’t exactly wrong, Sabrina had to admit. But that hadn’t been  _ bonding _ , just...a show of good faith. Their talk that night on the porch had done more on that front, more to make her see him as someone she might want to call family, if this summer went well. 

“So that’s why you did it?” Roz demanded. “All that talk about not wanting the world destroyed…”

“I  _ don’t  _ want the world destroyed-”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “And, in case anyone missed it, the world hasn’t  _ been  _ destroyed, so you’re fighting over nothing! It’s not- It’s not either of your decision, you realise? I’m going, because I need to. I need to get away from Greendale. If Lucifer hadn’t shown up, I’d probably have gone with Ambrose or...or found some other way.”

It felt awful, admitting it, but without something to tie her to Greendale...she felt unmoored. 

“So,” she went on, as steadily as she could, “If all we can do is fight, I’m out. Lucifer, I’m going to the Paramount. You can come if you want to. Guys…” She looked Harvey and Roz up and down. She’d been right, this was a date, Harvey only ever wore that shirt on dates. She’d told him it brought out his eyes one time, and then he’d always worn it when they wanted to make an occasion of something. It was an odd sort of pang, to see him wearing it for someone else. “...have fun on your date,” she managed, and was proud of how calm and not-jealous it came out. “I’ll see you in a couple days.”


	4. Chapter 4

There was, in fact, nothing good on at the Paramount, but they went anyway, because it was one way of keeping Lucifer out of trouble, Aunt Hilda still wouldn’t be far enough through dinner to appreciate the Devil being let loose on her kitchen, and at least in the darkness of the cinema, nobody Sabrina knew who didn’t already know about him would have to see them together. She didn’t want to have to explain the details. Greendale wasn’t Los Angeles, and being the product of her mother’s one-night-stand - not even with the Devil, but just with an eccentric LA club owner - _mattered_ here, in a way it maybe wouldn’t in LA or New York or even Boston. That her father had known and - little as Sabrina wanted to think about it - _participated_ , would only make it worse. It was petty and small-minded and _infuriating_ , but it was the way things were.

She’d gone for the most ridiculous B-movie she could find, because nothing but good could come of something titled _I Was A Teenage Lobster Zombie From Outer Space_ , and...honestly, she just wanted to see Lucifer there.

“Could I technically get you in on the senior citizens rate?” she’d wondered aloud. “I mean...you _are_ technically over sixty-five?”

The look he’d given her then had made her nearly collapse with laughter, and his dry commentary on the movie - thank Sa- Go- _somebody_ that mid-afternoon and mid-week was quiet enough they had the theatre to themselves, or maybe it was just that nobody appreciated a good schlocky B-movie anymore - was almost worth the stagey double-take that the woman behind the ticket office had done at the sight of them. Sabrina could hear the gossip starting even before they left the theatre. Greendale was a warm, loving community, or so the sign said. What that meant was, Greendale was a community where everybody was all up in everybody else’s business. And the Spellmans had always attracted whispers. Sabrina remembered being six years old and asking Aunt Zelda after school why she’d been so insistent about secrecy, when half of her class had asked if it was true Aunt Zelda was a witch anyway. That was the half whose parents had bothered to mind their language, anyway.

Thankfully, it was almost dark by the time they got out of the theatre, still debating whether or not the movie had been a deliberate, if very straight-faced, satire, or just took itself too seriously to realise how hysterically _bad_ every aspect of the filmmaking involved had been, and the path through the woods was all but deserted. Even the monsters were staying away tonight. Or maybe even the things that lurked in the Greendale woods had more sense than attack the Devil and the Antichrist out for an evening stroll.

“So, are your friends always like that?” Lucifer asked, before they were halfway through the woods.

Sabrina sighed. “...you know, if you were trying to prove them right about you trying to distance me from them, that would be a pretty good way to start,” she said dryly. “No, it’s not always...we’ve had a...stressful time. I mean...they have their reasons for not trusting me that much.”

She could admit that much now, with distance, but that didn’t stop it hurting.

“I mean,” she added, looking sideways at him. “Do you- Do you think your Detective would take it that well, if she knew?”

Lucifer didn’t reply. Sabrina took that as answer enough.

“I- I get it. I really do, I just- I thought we were over this. Or _getting_ over it.” Not Tommy. There would never be a time, now, when Tommy’s fate didn’t lie between her and Harvey like an unburied corpse. But the rest of it. The lies, and the evasions, what she’d done to his memory...it would never be right, but she’d thought they were starting to believe they could trust her again. And then all of this had happened, and between the Mandrake and finding out she was meant to bring about the end of the world and _Lucifer_...she was beginning to wonder if from now on, ‘normal’ meant nothing to her but the name of a town in Illinois she’d never seen.

“How long have they known?” Lucifer asked, sounding almost cautious.

Sabrina sighed. “Since before Christmas,” she admitted. “Harvey was the first to know. I- I screwed up,” she admitted, all in one breath. “And he- I’d understand if he never wanted to talk to me again, after that, but. He did. And he was willing to- I don’t _understand_ him!” she admitted, the words exploding out of her in exasperation. “He was- He said he was willing to start things with me again even after all that, but my- but that I didn’t have _sex_ with him when I was terrified out of my mind and thought that just- just being around my friends was putting them in danger-”

“He tried to pressure you?” Lucifer’s voice was dangerous, and Sabrina was struck all at once by the awful memory of what he’d done to Baphomet, even before she’d landed the killing blow. 

“No,” she said hastily. “No, he just...he was very clear. If I left, that was the end.” She swallowed. “It’s...it’s good. Roz is good. For him. And he is for her. They’re...right, together. In a way I couldn’t be. I just...I wish he’d decide whether he’s forgiven me or not.”

He had every right not to, or at least, not yet. She wouldn’t have minded if he’d just been honest about it, said he wanted to keep his distance or- or just cut her out of his life. Or- She would have minded. But she would have understood, and respected his decision. It was the least she could offer, after everything. But saying he had, and then doing this, every time something went wrong...he’d accused her of messing with his head. But she’d been trying just as hard to get over him, and he’d been the one that ended things, not her. They were always running hot and cold. Whatever things had been with Nick, however false everything he’d shown her had been...she’d thought she always knew where she stood. Now it turned out she hadn’t, after all.

“I’m hardly an expert on being forgiven, hellspawn, but...little as I appreciate his approach, he does seem invested in your safety.”

Sabrina sighed.

“Yeah. They all are. They saved my life, when the witch-hunters came. I just...I wish they’d trust me to know what I’m doing. I mean...my record isn’t _that_ bad, is it?”

“You _did_ save this whole town,” Lucifer agreed.

Sabrina squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was flattering her or not. “...yeah,” she agreed warily. “And I’m not asking for a parade or anything, but I did pull it off! I’ve saved them at least as often as they’ve saved me. And- Maybe I have gotten...overprotective...sometimes, but- they really _are_ more fragile than me.”

“But try telling any human that,” Lucifer muttered. “I’d even admire it if it didn’t keep ending in tears. And blood. Mostly blood, as by the time I get to them they’re a bit too dead to still be crying.”

Sabrina threw up her hands. “Exactly! It’s just- I know they want to help, and, I mean, I was mortal for most of the Almost-pocalypse-” she paused. “The...Armageddon’t?”

“Ragnar-okay-never-mind-then?” Lucifer suggested.

“Yeah, that. But I’m...I mean, what good did Harvey _think_ he was going to be against the Red Angel of Death? I know he isn’t technically a firstborn, but...” she trailed off. “I just want them to be safe,” she said into the waiting quiet. “And they _would_ be, if it weren’t for me. Just like Miss Wardwell.”

“In this town? I sincerely doubt it. And even if they were, that’s surely Lilith’s fault, isn’t it?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “She’s been manipulating people longer even than _I_ have, and she always did have a talent. She and my Father ought to have got along famously. Probably would’ve done, if there wasn’t that little matter of sovereignty.”

Sabrina didn’t have an answer to that. It made sense, logically. It was just- She could accept that Jesse Putnam might not have been her fault, that he’d already been doomed. But if she hadn’t done what she did, Harvey would never have had to watch his brother die twice. If the Weird Sisters had never noticed the Kinkles in the first place, Tommy Kinkle would still be there, living his life and watching out for Harvey the way he’d always done.

They broke through the treeline just before full dark. The lights were already on at the mortuary, shadows moving behind the windows.

Sabrina glanced over at Lucifer.

“...ready to face the vultures?” she asked.

Lucifer shrugged. “I’ve dealt with worse. Probably. Remind me, is your coven one of the sort that believes consuming an entity’s flesh grants you their power?”  
“Nobody is going to try and _eat_ you, Dad, seriously!”

“Said the newest member of the cannibal cult…”

“ _Dad_.” Sabrina half-whined, and then pretended she hadn’t. She hadn’t meant to call him that, this time. “Let’s get in,” she said, before he could say anything, “I’m starving.”

The pet cemetery was dark and deserted, the statues of long-dead pets standing sentinel in the dark. None of them had been Spellman pets - Aunt Zelda’s Vinegar Tom had died the same day that the Berlin Wall went down, and Sabrina had grown up with his taxidermied corpse always sitting attentively in his old basket in the hall, where Aunt Zelda would occasionally scratch the long-dead ears, very furtively, as if afraid someone would see and mock her for it. Still, she knew them all. She’d played amongst the graves as a child, had buried dead animals on its fringes, and asked Ambrose to give detailed eulogies for each one, until she grew too old for it. The human graveyard beyond it had been her playground too, and half the Greendale woods, in her time. She could find her way here blindfolded, in pitch blackness, memory turned to instinct after a lifetime here. Would that stay, after Los Angeles? Or would she have to re-learn it? She didn’t know. She hadn’t left Greendale since she was a baby, when her parents’ plane had gone down over the Atlantic and her father had managed to get her out at the last minute with a teleportation spell, rather than save his own life. She’d always thought of herself as _rooted_ here, somehow, like a tree. Harvey talked about leaving town, but Sabrina had never even imagined it, at least not for a good long while. Now she was going. Arrangements would have to be made. Distantly, she wondered what she’d need to pack for a summer in California, and just how long the journey would take. Whether she’d be afraid, stepping onto a plane again, for all she had been too young to remember the first time.

The front door was unlocked, and inside the house was a hive of activity, witches going to and fro from kitchen to the rarely-used dining room. Looked like they were going to have to open it up, at least so long as the rest of the coven were staying here. Probably they’d need to use her room for a few of them, too, since nobody else was using it - Ambrose’s too, though with any luck he’d be back before she was. She didn’t like the thought of Agatha or Dorcas in there, going through her things in her absence, but she didn’t know that she could reasonably complain about it, either. She wouldn’t be using it, after all. But- It was _hers_. It had been bad enough hosting Prudence there, and at least then she’d been there, even if she still bristled at the memory of Prudence’s sneering remarks.

“Sabrina?” Aunt Hilda’s voice called from the kitchen. “Is that you, my love? I heard the front door…”

“It’s me.” Sabrina called back. “Do you...need any help with...anything?”

“Yes! Go and wash up, and then, could you give me a hand with the dishes? And be careful, they’re-”

“Hot, I know.”

Lucifer had already disappeared back into Aunt Hilda’s kitchen, either displaying an unusual spirit of helpfulness or going for the last of the cooking sherry - his loss, since Aunt Hilda’s vegetable pie mostly relied on ale for its secret ingredient - as Sabrina dashed up to the bathroom to wash her face and hands - no sense in doing it in the kitchen sink, which would undoubtedly already be in use - and found herself at the end of a line of waiting students that dissipated the instant one of them caught sight at her, leaving her a clear shot. She wasn’t sure if she was irritated or relieved about that, and dawdled over the task, just to see if someone would hammer on the door to demand their turn. Nobody did. _That_ only irritated her more.

It was stupid. She ought to be annoyed about the influx of a dozen other teenagers into a house that had already felt groaning at the seams sometimes with just her, her aunties and Ambrose, and far too small during Prudence’s brief visit. Then she could feel guilty about feeling guilty because, after all, where else did they have to go? But- They were _afraid_ of her now. She’d never wanted anyone to be afraid.

Well, maybe Father Blackwood. Maybe Baphomet, just to give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe the Weird Sisters, in the beginning, when they’d been Harrowing her, before she learnt to fight back. Not random people who just happened to run across her in on the landing of her own damn house.

When she ducked back into the kitchen, the couple of girls who’d been chatting with Aunt Hilda and holding a stack of plates apiece scattered too, leaving Sabrina and Aunt Hilda alone together.

“You need me to carry anything?” Sabrina asked, trying to ignore the way that the room had emptied the moment she walked into it.

“Yes!” Aunt Hilda flapped a hand at a dish of potatoes on the kitchen counter - roast ones. She really had gone all out, worship or no worship, between this and the vegetable pie. “And don’t- don’t take it so personally, all right, lamb? You know it’s not _you_ they’re really frightened of.”

Paradoxically, that just irritated Sabrina more. If people were going to be frightened of her - not, she reminded herself, that she _wanted_ people to be frightened of her - it might as well be for her own sake, and not because they were scared she’d - what, that she’d tell her dad on them, like they were in grade school?

She grabbed the potatoes and took them through, to find Aunt Zelda sitting at the head of the table, where Father Blackwood had sat during that last, not-quite-disastrous dinner party, when they’d all found out the truth about Prudence, and the Feast of Feasts, and the lottery. She tried not to wonder what reception Lady Blackwood had found in Hell, and whether what she’d tried to do to Prudence, and, later, to Aunt Zelda, had been any part of it. Doctor Cerberus was in there too, and by the rabbit-in-headlights look on his face, being grilled in depth by Aunt Zelda as to his intentions towards her sister. Sabrina shot a meant-to-be-reassuring smile at him, which he returned, a little queasily.

Lucifer wasn’t there - he’d probably disappeared upstairs to avoid further interactions with his worshippers. For a man who claimed not to want worship, he seemed a lot more comfortable giving grand speeches from on high than he was actually _talking_ to any of the coven but Sabrina and Aunt Hilda. Then again, they were probably the only two who’d talk to him as if he were a human being, and not...what he really was. Or maybe he just wasn’t that social, what did Sabrina know? For all his wild stories, he didn’t make it sound as if he had terribly many friends back in LA.

There was no sign of Dorcas or Agatha either, which made her uneasy. Dorcas alone might be largely harmless, but she’d gone along willingly enough with the plot to kill the Kinkles, and Agatha had malice enough for two. Quite what they might get into their heads to do, free of Prudence’s hand on the reins, she still wasn’t sure, except that it couldn’t be anything good.

She set the potatoes down and went back to the kitchen to see if there was anything else, and got drafted into carrying a plate of mixed vegetables, while Aunt Hilda called up the stairs to anyone who’d managed to escape getting dragged into the preparations. There was a general stampede of feet from upstairs - Sabrina hadn’t seen the house this packed even on holidays, which were usually quiet affairs at the Spellmans’. Yule was the one they made most of a fuss for, and even that was usually just a matter of a few rituals and the exchanging of gifts. She wondered if Lucifer might want to come, this year, and decided that she was never, ever going to ask him. She could already imagine just how sarcastic he’d be about all their traditions, and there were some things she really didn’t want to have to deal with over the holidays.

Speaking of Lucifer, he appeared down the stairs having finally changed out of his muddy suit, which had caught them more than a few stares on its own while they were out in Greendale. Apparently someone - Sabrina suspected Aunt Zelda’s hand at work - had offered up Edward Spellman’s old clothes for the cause. They didn’t exactly fit, and they didn’t exactly suit him, and he’d left off the tie and the overcoat, but it was still a near enough match to how her father had looked in the visions she’d had of him that Sabrina felt an odd shock of disconnection every time she caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye.

The dining-room table was long enough to accommodate everyone, but only just, and Sabrina suspected some magical assistance just fitting everyone in, plus Lucifer and Doctor Cerberus. It was a tight squeeze even so, and Sabrina found herself wedged in between Elspeth and Doctor Cerberus, across from Aunt Hilda. Lucifer had taken the foot of the table without any question from anyone, and everyone kept at least one eye on him except for Sabrina, Aunt Hilda, Doctor Cerberus and, oddly, Aunt Zelda, who appeared to have come to the conclusion that if the Dark Lord had forbidden his own worship, the only proper thing for a pious Satanist woman to do was treat him as a secular guest and hope that a rain of frogs did not ensue.

“So,” Doctor Cerberus said, when it became clear no-one else was going to say anything. “Thank you all for having me. I know things have been...difficult, lately.”  
Aunt Hilda grinned goofily at him across the table. “No trouble, Doctor Cee,” she said brightly.

“On the contrary,” Aunt Zelda cut in. “It has been a great deal of trouble. But, for some reason quite beyond _my_ understanding, my sister appears to have developed a _tendre_ for you. I trust you are sensible of the honour that is being paid to you.”

“ _Zelda_ ,” Aunt Hilda hissed.

Doctor Cerberus was wearing that nervous smile again. “Oh- I am, I assure you. I am...quite aware that Hilda is...extraordinary.” The dizzy, infatuated smile on his face was ridiculously sweet, and might be enough to reconcile Sabrina to having him for an uncle, one day. Not that she’d ever exactly minded the idea of Aunt Hilda finding someone the way she’d minded Father Blackwood sniffing around Aunt Zelda, and she’d always liked Doctor Cee anyway, but it was a few steps from that to welcoming him to the family. Especially given the other directions in which it had recently expanded.

Aunt Zelda seemed a little taken aback at this. “Yes, well..” she sniffed. “Try to remain mindful of it. Mervin, pass the salt, please.”

After that, conversation started up all around the table, but nobody was meeting Sabrina’s eyes. Or Aunt Zelda’s. They sat, two islands in the midst of a sea of chatter, while, around them, socialising happened. They were seated too far apart to comfortably talk to one another - not that it was stopping anyone else. Lucifer, Doctor Cee and Aunt Hilda had got into a spirited discussion of Aunt Hilda’s romance novel, something about a few edits Lucifer had suggested that Aunt Hilda wasn’t quite sure of.

“-telling you,” Lucifer was saying, “Fewer euphemisms is the way to go. As it is, it reads like _Fanny Hill_ , and while that is definitely my favourite novel of the eighteenth century, there is nothing less erotic than running up against the word ‘maypole’ in the middle of a sex scene.”

Sabrina wrinkled her nose.

On her other side, Mervin and Elspeth were whispering, their heads together. Sabrina had to wonder what Dorcas thought of it - or had she and Mervin broken up since the Lupercal?

She could feel eyes on her now, and looked up to find Agatha and Dorcas both staring at her. They smiled, wide and eerily identical, for all that they looked nothing at all alike, before going back to their own whispered conference, entirely ignoring Mervin and Elspeth’s increasingly unsubtle quarrel and even less subtle under-the-table hand-holding. Ok, so either a breakup or another open arrangement, then. Not that it was any of Sabrina’s business what the Weird Sisters were doing with their free time. They could go back to screwing Nick all three at a time, so far as she was concerned, and it was no skin off her nose. Except that Ambrose would probably be upset, if the way he and Prudence had started looking at each other before his trial was any indication.

She wondered where Ambrose and Prudence were now, and whether they had any solid leads at all as to where Blackwood might be going. Prudence had been his daughter and his right-hand-woman at the Academy, for all Ambrose had had the hollow title of ‘Top Boy’ to drive a wedge between him and the Spellmans. She’d know better than anyone the way he thought, where he had boltholes, where he might run. Of course, Blackwood knew she knew all of that, so maybe they were already back to square one.

Aunt Hilda drafted her and Mervin and a couple of the others to clear the table and bring out dessert - apparently she’d gone all-out tonight, and there was cake and ice-cream waiting. Sabrina just hoped it wasn’t Aunt Hilda’s particular take on fruits-of-the-forest. Blackberries and wild strawberries were all very well, but they were best served, in her opinion, without a side of squirrel’s eyeballs. The cake was Aunt Hilda’s honey cake, a recipe brought over from the Old Country, wherever that was, charmed to sweeten the mood of anyone who ate it, and a perennial favourite from Sabrina’s childhood. It made her throat tighten with homesickness, and she hadn’t even left yet.

It was a little heavier than she’d been expecting - three layers, and slathered with thick creamy icing, the top of the cake studded with golden raisins - and awkward to carry, with the cake-knife held in one hand. Had Aunt Hilda gone to all this effort just for Lucifer...or was this meant to be a going-away dinner, as well? 

She set it on the table with not a little relief - her arms had been starting to hurt just getting it in from the kitchen - and felt an odd little glow of vicarious smugness at the looks on her fellow students’ faces. She hadn’t really appreciated just how talented Aunt Hilda was until she went to the Academy, and started realising that she’d been eating the culinary equivalent of Botticellis all her life. Not that Aunt Hilda would ever accept the compliment.

“Perhaps you’d like to carve it?” Aunt Hilda suggested, with a nervous smile, confirming one of Sabrina’s suspicions about the weight. This was definitely a going-away party. Aunt Hilda had made her surprise-cake for Sabrina every year on her birthday, until the year of her Dark Baptism. Her last gift was always hidden inside.

“Yes,” Agatha agreed, her voice dripping with honeyed malice. “We all know Sabrina is...handy...with a knife.”

Sabrina’s fingers closed, white-knuckled, around the handle.

“Shut up, Agatha,” she said, through gritted teeth.

Agatha’s smile widened.

“What’s the matter, Sabrina?” she and Dorcas said, in perfect, eerie unison. “Don’t you remember how it felt when you cut my throat?”

There was a general indrawing of breath around the table.

“Yeah,” Sabrina said into the waiting silence, her voice hard. “I remember. I _also_ remember how long it took you to drag yourself out of the Cain Pit afterwards. Do you want to see if you can beat your best time? Because I would be _happy_ to give it another go.”

“Sabrina,” Aunt Hilda hissed, furious.

Aunt Zelda sniffed. “This is unseemly.”

“What,” Lucifer asked, leaning forwards, in the calm voice that Sabrina had already learnt meant danger. “Exactly, is a Cain Pit?”

How could he not _know_? Sabrina and Aunt Zelda exchanged an incredulous look, but before they could, the Weird Sisters went on.

“And what dividends did my death and affliction pay you?” Agatha asked, sweet as arsenic. “The Kinkle boy died a second time,” she went on, Dorcas adding her voice to her sister’s. “His soul was devoured, and you lost your mortal pet.”

“They aren’t my _pets_ , Agatha! They’re my friends. Or aren’t you familiar with the concept?” Sabrina snapped back. “And if it hadn’t been for you and your _sisters_ , Tommy would never have needed resurrecting in the first place!”

“...resurrection,” Lucifer repeated, eyes narrowed. “I think I’m going to need to hear this story. From the beginning.”

“ _Must_ we have it recounted at dinner?” Aunt Zelda snapped. “Sabrina, Agatha, Dorcas, if you cannot conduct yourself as befits students of the Academy, you may go.” 

Aunt Hilda looked dismayed. “But- But, Zelds…”

“I can’t show favouritism, Hilda.” Her fingers tightened on the cigarette-holder.

Lucifer raised his eyebrows. “They did start it,” he pointed out. “And I can’t help but notice that - Agnes, was it? Agnes’ throat looks _remarkably_ un-slit.”

“Her name is Agatha,” was all Sabrina could find to say.

The Dark Lord she’d been raised to worship would not have cared two straws even if Sabrina had killed Agatha and left her properly dead. Lucifer’s much less flexible moral compass had been an unexpected relief...but not now. Not over this. Even if Agatha had taken no permanent harm...Sabrina had still done it. And she could still remember the feeling of it, the dark satisfaction of knowing that the person who had killed Tommy and taken the only thing standing between Harvey and his wrecking-ball of a father away had felt all the terror and pain that Tommy must’ve, down there in the dark as that tunnel had caved in.

“...really not the point I was trying to make, hellspawn.”

Sabrina caught Aunt Zelda’s eye, and sighed.

“...I’ll tell you,” she said. “In the kitchen, since it’s not _seemly_ , apparently, to do it here.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Worrying about what’s _seemly_ distracts from what’s fun. And often, from what’s incriminating. But…” he cast another look at Aunt Zelda. “Since I _am_ your aunt’s guest, she can have her way. Thanks for the meal, Hilda,” he added, turning a painfully bright smile on Sabrina’s aunt. “You really _must_ give me the recipe sometime.”

“Oh- Oh, no, I couldn’t…that is...I’m sure it’s not…”

“Oh, it _is_. I’m not much for this style of cookery, usually, but after tonight, consider me converted.”

Aunt Hilda actually blushed at that, and Doctor Cerberus looked faintly nervous, as if it wasn’t obvious to anyone with eyes that Aunt Hilda was head-over-heels for him. Still, the blush faded as Aunt Hilda glanced over at Sabrina.

“But- Sweetheart, your surprise, I thought-”

“No reason to hold up everyone else for it,” Sabrina said, much more cheerfully than she felt. “It’s fine, really.”

If this was going to come to smiting, she’d rather limit the collateral damage.

* * *

The kitchen was mostly still, the plates stacked by the sink ready for washing - someone other than Aunt Hilda’s job, since she’d cooked - and Salem sitting stretched out on the settle, his eyes just slits.

Sabrina sat down next to him, and he padded up to her purring to rub his head against her arm, before depositing himself into her lap and glaring up at Lucifer, who was still standing. She glared too, then, because this was going to be hard enough without him looming over her like that. He loomed enough as things were - perhaps the most offensive thing about this whole situation was that Lucifer had clearly had an overdose of the tall gene, but had neglected to pass it on to her.

“Wow, you really are out of the loop in Hell,” she said, forcing a smile. “You wouldn’t have been able to miss this sort of disruption otherwise, because I’m pretty sure Agatha isn’t going anywhere else.”

“Going to assume that cave-in you mentioned was her doing.”

Sabrina nodded. “Got it in one. He- Tommy pushed Harvey out of the way just in time. They were aiming to kill them both, and all because Prudence-” she cut herself off.

“All because Prudence what?” Lucifer asked, folding himself into the nearest chair and tilting his head to lean closer.

Sabrina swallowed. “The Kinkles are witch-hunters. Or- Or they were. It’s- It’s not as though that kind of thing is genetic. Harvey hadn’t even _heard_ of real witches before I told him-” she shook her head. “But Prudence and the others...it was like they were obsessed. Never mind that he’s the gentlest person I’ve ever known-”

“He didn’t come off that way when I met him.”

Sabrina stared down at her feet. “...he’s had a rough time,” she admitted. “And it is- It’s my fault.”

“Hardly. You didn’t cause this cave-in, did you?”

“No, but- They wouldn’t have found out if I hadn’t been trying to convince Prudence to- You know what, maybe not get into that now. Point is, I’m the reason they found out. And then when the cave-in happened...Tommy was the only thing keeping Harvey afloat in that house. His dad was-” she closed her eyes. “I don’t know if it was the drinking, or...he’s stopped now, and if he lays a hand on Harvey again, it’s going to go so very, very badly for him, but back then...I was _so_ sure he wouldn’t survive on his own. And when Miss Wardwell told me there was a way to bring Tommy back-”

“ _Lilith_ told you this?”

Sabrina nodded. “Yeah. Guess...guess she always meant for it to go...the way it did.”

“It didn’t work, of course,” Lucifer said, with absolute certainty. “My sister would never allow it. She gets very particular about her accounting, does Azrael.”

She snorted. “Yeah. _Particular_. That’s one way of putting it. I- The ritual called for a life to be sacrificed in order to bring one back. Since Agatha killed him...it seemed only fair.”

“Mm. Not sure I entirely disagree with you there. An eye for an eye always was my preferred system for sorting these things out. But- That doesn’t mean you should be the one killing them.”

“I was the reason she was going to die either way,” Sabrina pointed out, defensive. “I wasn’t going to fob the job off on somebody else and pretend that made it not my fault. Anyway. I was always going to bring her back.”

“Bring her back...how?” She couldn’t read Lucifer’s expression now, which was probably a bad sign. “You didn’t decide to kill some other poor unfortunate, did you?”  
“No!” Sabrina swallowed. “No. There’s...a Cain Pit. In the graveyard. Aunt Zelda used to bury Aunt Hilda in it every time she killed her during an argument-”

“Every time she _what?_ ” It sounded like it ought to have been a shriek, but wasn’t. Sabrina...might have preferred the shriek. “What is _wrong_ with you people?”

His hands were shaking, just barely. She wouldn’t have noticed it at all if she weren’t so scared, so hyper-aware of everything around her in that moment.

“It’s- I mean, it’s not _fine_ , but she always comes back, and Aunt Zelda hasn’t done it since Batibat anyway…” she hastened to explain. “I...really don’t know why they do it, but it’s just...a thing they do. It always has been. Anyway. The ritual called for a death, but it didn’t say anything about the sacrifice needing to _stay_ dead, and even if Agatha murdered Tommy...I didn’t want to sink to her level. I figured...Aunt Hilda always says she’s fine afterwards, and I know it’s not- it’s not that simple, but...alive and traumatised is still getting off pretty easy for _murder_.”

“I’m not your judge or jury, hellspawn,” Lucifer said levelly. “And...that is an interesting loophole, but it doesn’t work that way.”

“Yeah.” Sabrina swallowed. “Yeah. I found that out. Agatha...she got sick. Like...really sick. And Tommy came back...hollow. Soulless. I tried to get his soul back, but-”

Even now, she could remember the feeling, Tommy’s hand turning to dust in hers, the awful, wrenching feeling of knowing that she had failed and, more than that, by trying she had made things worse than ever.

“It didn’t work,” she said instead. “He’s gone. _Really_ gone. I went into Limbo to find him, but the Soul-Eater...”

Lucifer’s throat worked through a swallow. He dropped onto the settle beside her, and Sabrina was just thinking that this was probably going to be the part where she got smote when she was drawn into the world’s most awkward hug, Lucifer’s cheek resting against her hair. She stiffened involuntarily, just from the shock, but slowly relaxed into it as it became clear that smiting, at least, was not on the agenda.

“I’m not going to tell you it was the smartest decision you could’ve made,” Lucifer said into her hair. “But I can’t say I haven’t tried anything similar.”

Sabrina turned her face into his chest. “Harvey had to do it, the second time,” she said, muffled. “That’s why…”

“Ah.” It was carefully noncommittal. He was, she realised, trying so hard not to frighten her, and she was torn between affront and desperate gratitude that he’d noticed. He’d tensed, she couldn’t help but notice. What did he think of it?

Nothing she didn’t deserve, probably. The guilt and the shame of it still sat in a tight knot in the pit of her stomach. If she’d left well enough alone-

Maybe the Soul-Eater would’ve found Tommy after all, in the end. But Harvey wouldn’t have had to put a bullet in his own brother’s head, to arrange the scene to make it look like a suicide and be left with no-one but her in which he could confide the guilt, or the pain, and of course he never could.

“You don’t need to tell me how stupid it was,” she muttered. “My aunties and Ambrose already told me. I just...how was I supposed to watch that - Aunt Zelda had to use magic to pull Harvey’s father off him at the damn _funeral_ , for hell’s sake! And I- I could get him to stop drinking, and I _know_ that’s a violation of his free will,” she ploughed on, before Lucifer could say a word. “But if I’m violating his freedom to beat his son to death, I don’t feel all that sorry about it!”

Lucifer’s arm tightened around her, just a little, but it felt protective, not restraining. She didn’t need to look at his face to know the battle being waged there.

“So,” he said, in a tight, brittle voice. “If this Cain Pit can resurrect the dead, why not just throw your boyfriend’s brother in there?”

Sabrina shrugged. “It doesn’t work on mortals. Just witches. Aunt Zelda says it’s because our souls are already sworn to the Dark Lord.”

“...well, I _don’t_ own your souls, so that’s clearly not it.”

The whole argument of free will, and what she’d done to Mr Kinkle with a bottle of Aunt Hilda’s eggnog, was not over, she could tell that already. Just...put to one side, shelved, something to talk about at a later date, when he could interrogate her at his leisure.

“It’s not like any of us knew that before you showed up!” Sabrina retorted, pulling away and crossing her arms. “How does it work, then?”

“For that, I’d have to see it.” Lucifer wrinkled his nose. “What does _Cain_ have to do with this, anyway?”

Sabrina blinked. “...the warlock Cain?” she tried. “I mean...there’s a few legends that say he was your son by Eve…” she paused. “Which would make him my half-brother, so…”

“ _Definitely_ not.” Lucifer gave a theatrically exaggerated shudder. “First, except in the case of some very specific rituals that nobody had yet come up with, angels and humans _can’t_ interbreed. Second, if there had been a nephilim that powerful wandering around Earth for the last few millennia, I assure you _somebody_ would’ve noticed by now.” He paused, and added, “And third, _Cain_ ? Really? This is just more of humanity bending over backwards to assign me responsibility for all you people’s sins, because Dad forbid you might’ve actually _chosen_ to kill each other…”

“Guessing the ‘Abel was an asshole who deserved what he got’ bit of the witch version of the story isn’t accurate either, then?”

Lucifer shrugged. “Well, he _is_ Hell’s oldest tenant, presumably for a reason. I wasn’t paying all that much attention at the time, as Lilith’s first children were just getting old enough to start trying to rebel against me…”

“They seem to have a habit of doing that.”

Lucifer snorted. “It was one of the more interesting challenges of ruling Hell, yeah. A show of force is usually enough to put rebellions down, but…” he trailed off, and there was something in his eyes that Sabrina didn’t like. 

“So...Limbo. That’s...part of Hell, right?” she asked, feeling at it out. It was somehow irresistible, like tonguing at the gap left by a lost tooth. “So….that’s your jurisdiction?”

“Not...exactly.” Lucifer shifted. “It’s...something like an embassy. On Hell’s soil, but not of Hell. People who go to Limbo can be bound anywhere, in the end. It’s just that they were too closely tied to this world to accept it.”

Like her mom, Sabrina thought, who’d clung on for sixteen years just to be sure that Sabrina was all right. Like Tommy. He must’ve wanted to know Harvey would be safe. He’d been afraid too, just like Sabrina had been. He’d known the way things had been in that house couldn’t go on without someone ending up dead and, without intervention, that someone would probably be Harvey.

She almost wished, now, that she’d been ruthless enough to use Mr Kinkle. Tommy was an adult, he could’ve taken custody of Harvey, and while she’d carry the guilt of human blood on her hands for the rest of her life...she had that anyway. And worse than that. Tommy’s _soul_ was gone, because of her.

“And there’s something there that _eats souls_ over that?” she demanded, anger flaring up, because who did that? Who decided that was the acceptable thing to do? “Do you have any idea- I almost got him out! We were at the gate! If Miss Wardwell had opened that portal just a _second_ earlier, it- It might not have been _fine_ , but…”

“But you were being set up to fail.” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “And to fail in such a way that you felt responsible. Lilith _wanted_ you in Hell.”

It wasn’t exactly news. “Or Baphomet did,” Sabrina said, shrugging. “Does it matter? Lilith offered me the chance, and I leapt at it. Despite everyone else I knew telling me what a bad idea it was, and how it would all end in tears...I just bulled right through, and it was the Kinkles who paid the price.”

“Not just them- Hellspawn, do you know how Hell works?”

Sabrina paused. “...yeah, you said...you said it was based on guilt. Is that-” her stomach twisted. “...so. I’m going to Hell.”

“No!” It was nearly a snarl. “No. You are not seeing the inside of that place if I have any say.”

“Do you?” Sabrina couldn’t help asking. “Have any say? I thought you’d retired.”

Lucifer’s lips had drawn back from his teeth. “If my Father sees fit to send you down there, I’ll drag you out again myself,” he growled. “You made a mistake. Maybe more than one mistake. Failing to save someone’s life shouldn’t be enough to damn yourself over-”

“But forcing Harvey to shoot his own brother is.”

Lucifer’s shoulders slumped. For the first time, he looked fragile.

“It...it wasn’t him, hellspawn,” he said, very softly. “The body...it’s just a shell.”

“Tell that to Harvey!” Sabrina snapped, and then. “Oh, god. Harvey. Is he- You said it was based on guilt, and I know- Is he going to Hell for this?”

There was a long silence. That was answer enough.

“Oh- Oh, Satan, no-”

“It’s not- Listen to me,” Lucifer caught her wrists gently. “It’s not inevitable. He’s guilty _now_ . If he can forgive himself for it, realise it wasn’t his fault, then he’s clear. He’s, what, sixteen? Seventeen? There’s time.” He paused, and added. “Therapy might also be a good idea.”   
Sabrina gave a rather wet little snort. “His dad would never go for that,” she said miserably. “He’s...he _has_ improved since Christmas. Since he stopped drinking, I mean. He hasn’t hit Harvey since then, anyway, that I know of. But he’s still...even if there was the money for it, his dad won't even hear of him seeing the school counsellor, let alone…anyway. How many therapists are there with experience of this sort of thing?”

“I know exactly one...and she’s on the other side of the country. Hm.” Lucifer paused, blinked. “...I wonder. Would your friends be willing to pay you a visit? Assuming all the travel costs were paid for them by a mysterious and anonymous benefactor?”

Sabrina stared at him. “...you’d do that? Why- I mean, you don’t even _like-_ ”

“No, I don’t,” Lucifer agreed, shameless. “But you do. And if it matters to you, it matters to me.”

Sabrina could imagine what the others would have to say to that - that it was a trap, probably, that Lucifer lied as easily as he breathed, and probably more often-

But, she found, she did believe him. She always had.

“...thanks,” she said awkwardly, because what else were you supposed to say to a declaration like that? “I mean...they probably won’t want to- You know they don’t trust you.”

“Isn’t that all the more reason for them to come? They’re your friends, presumably they have some investment in your safety.” He paused, and then added. “If they don’t, I’d say you need better friends.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes at him. “I’m fine with the ones I’ve got, thanks. It’s not- You really aren’t seeing any of us at the best time…also, you’re _literally_ Satan, so you really can’t complain about people not trusting you.”

“Watch me!”

Sabrina shoved him. “You know what I mean! Look, the entire world has been hearing nothing but the False God’s propaganda for millennia, and now it turns out even the Church of Night didn’t have the real story. Of _course_ people are going to be a bit suspicious. Especially since the Dark Lord’s been trying to drag all of us down for...basically forever. None of which is _exactly_ your fault…” Though he could have paid a bit more attention to what Baphomet had been doing all those centuries. He could have asked a few more questions about just why a high priest and his wife wanted to summon their god for less than family-friendly purposes. He could have paid more attention to the Church of Night from the start, and intervened a few centuries sooner. Not that it mattered. He hadn’t. “But you haven’t exactly been going out of your way to contradict people,” she finished, a little lamely. 

“Well, no, I’ve been shut up in Hell for most of human history! What do you expect me to do, put out a newsletter? Get in touch with yet _more_ worshippers?”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying! None of them have been that big a dick about the Antichrist thing, at least.”

“You do realise that’s mostly a myth, don’t you?” Lucifer said sourly.

“A myth that spontaneously teleported you here and gave me the power to end the world.”

Lucifer paused. “...you do have a point,” he acknowledged, grudgingly. “It does seem about the sort of sadistic nonsense my Father would come up with.”

Sabrina winced. Yeah, the way he talked about the False God really wouldn’t help. Roz already got that pained look whenever Sabrina referred to the False God as...well, false. Sabrina had always been vaguely aware that Reverend Walker didn’t exactly approve of her. Nobody had ever seen any of the Spellmans in any of the churches in Greendale, and in a town like Greendale, which always seemed maybe half a step away from Nathaniel Hawthorne, as though four centuries could be wiped away just by walking into the woods far enough that the lights of the town fell out of sight, and where witchcraft was an accusation that carried some real weight, and not just something for children’s stories and hippie spiritualism - which Reverend Walker didn’t hold with either - that mattered. 

“I guess it doesn’t matter now,” she said, getting up. “It’s over. I mean, unless someone wants to start the apocalypse all over again, but…” she made a vague gesture. “I’m just going to go see if there’s any cake left, if you want to come…”

Lucifer looked as though there were quite a lot of other things he’d have liked to say - probably about how his father’s petty sadism in making Sabrina the key to destroying the world would never _not_ matter - Sabrina had already learnt that the endless cruelties of the False God was perhaps Lucifer’s second-favourite topic, after LA police detectives who were willing to shoot him just to shut him up, which just smacked of hypocrisy given how disturbed he’d been at the mention of Aunt Zelda, Aunt Hilda and the Cain Pit. 

“I expect I could go for some,” he said, casual as a cat pretending it had meant to fall off the table. “Should I start making arrangements to get back to LA?”

Sabrina paused. “...yeah,” she said at last. “I...the sooner I’m out of Greendale, the better.”

Maybe she’d be homesick in Los Angeles...but so much better to be far away and missing home, than to be standing in her own kitchen, and feel homesick anyway.

* * *

The Putnams’ farm was on the other side of the woods from the mortuary, just a little nearer than the Kinkles, and if Sabrina took the route through the forest, she could go from the mortuary almost to Susie’s front door without ever leaving the shadow of the trees once. That route took Sabrina past the entrance of the mines, rendered strange and horrifying by the knowledge of what lay beneath, though she’d been going this way all her life before she knew the gates of Hell lurked down there, at the deepest point of the mines, deeper than Harvey’s father or brother had ever even ventured.

Sabrina gave it as wide a berth as she could. The mine entrance gaped dark and foreboding, like a great mouth open wide and ready to devour. Even as she hurried away, she could feel its presence behind her like the feeling of a pair of eyes boring into the back of her neck.

Even after it was safely out of sight, she felt...uneasy, and kept hurrying her steps, hoping to reach the Putnams’ farm before anything noticed her there. Even if, Aunt Zelda said, a witch should walk fearlessly in the darkest forest in the certain knowledge that she was the most terrible thing there, Sabrina was still half mortal, and that half knew fear.

The Putnams’ house looked different in the light of day to how it had the last time Sabrina had visited, the night of the exorcism. It felt like a lifetime ago. Before she’d signed the Book of the Beast, before she’d learnt what she really was. Before Tommy. It felt oddly like going back in time, to climb the stairs and knock on the front door as if this were any other visit.

It was Mr Putnam who answered the door - Sabrina had lost track of the days, it must be Sunday, he was never at home on any other day - and he looked faintly startled at the sight of her.

“...Theo’s in his room,” he said, stepping aside. “Leave the door open.”

Sabrina paused. “...we’re not going to…” she started.

“I know, but...just for my peace of mind?”

Sabrina paused. “I thought Harvey and Roz were going to be joining us…”

“Theo didn’t say anything about that to me.” Mr Putnam paused as Sabrina took off her coat and slipped off her shoes. “...saw you in town the other day,” he said awkwardly.

Sabrina paused. “Yeah,” she said, a little too casually. “Yeah, I went to the Paramount and Doctor Cerberus’s. We’ve...uh...got a lot of relatives staying with us right now, so...the mortuary’s getting a little crowded.”  
“Right…” a pause, and then. “That man you were with one of those relatives?”

Sabrina froze. “Yeah,” she said, too quickly. “Yeah, he is.”

Mr Putnam looked relieved. “Good, that’s...that’s good. I mean, not that it’s my business, but...you’ve got to watch yourself. Older men, hanging around a girl your age…”

“It’s- It’s really not like that,” Sabrina said quickly. “He’s…” she swallowed. “So, it turns out...he’s my dad. I mean, biologically. It’s not- Mom and Dad apparently had some trouble conceiving, so…” she shrugged. “He was in Greendale for...other reasons, and decided to drop in, since he knew Mom and Dad. And that’s how we all found out.”

There. A nice, mostly-safe version of the story to be disseminated to anyone who asked. Not that Mr Putnam was the gossiping type, but Sabrina knew it would only sound more truthful with practice.

“...that’s…” Mr Putnam whistled. “Well, I’m glad he’s taking some responsibility,” he said, sounding as if he wasn’t all that glad but found the situation too awkward not to pass some comment on it. “Theo’s upstairs,” he repeated, “You said Roz and Harvey were coming?”  
“I think so?”   
They might well have decided against it, after that scene at Doctor Cee’s place.

Mr Putnam nodded. “I’ll keep an ear out.”

Sabrina could’ve found her way to Theo’s room blindfolded. It hadn’t changed that much, since the last time she’d seen it, and the door was standing ajar, Theo sprawled out across the bed with a book. He looked up as Sabrina pushed the door a little wider.  
“Sabrina!” 

He was up and bouncing off the bed as soon as he saw her. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen...I mean, not a ghost, given that must be pretty normal for you, but…”

Sabrina shrugged. “I...came via the mines,” she admitted. “How are you? How’s...adjusting? I haven’t seen you since it all happened…”

“I mean…” Theo bit his lip. “I wasn’t…exactly sure I really believed in all this God and the Devil stuff before - don’t tell my dad - but...now it’s real. I mean...it was real before this, but...God _exists_. And he’s your granddad. That’s...a bit of a trip, not going to lie.”

Sabrina snorted. “I’ll take that over ‘so, the Devil exists, and he’s your dad and also obviously trying to manipulate you into starting the Apocalypse again even though he was the one who helped stop it last time’,” she said, more bitterly than she had intended.

Theo swallowed. “I mean...there’s that, but…” he shrugged. “I told you, I’m going with the expert opinion on this one. I mean...Roz has her cunning, but for you...it’s this whole other world that none of us really knows anything about, but you’re a local there. And I’m not going to be the dumb tourist who doesn’t listen. Besides. Why go to all the trouble of helping you save the world just to destroy it again?”

Sabrina breathed out. “ _Thank_ you!” she said emphatically. “I know- I know it seems creepy, but…”

Theo shrugged. “I mean...It is weird. I’m not saying it isn’t. I mean...what does this make you, like, some kind of Princess of Hell?”

“...probably.”

“...yeah, still not used to that. But…” Theo bit his lip. “Look. When- Do you remember- Were you there when that lady set up at Doctor Cee’s to do tarot readings?”

Sabrina blinked “...yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I remember. She did one for me too. What- What did she show you?”

Theo glanced down. “I...I was feeling kinda...low, y’know? I mean...dysphoric low. And I- I ended up breaking into your house to steal a spell because- because I was afraid, if I asked, you wouldn’t help me. Which is stupid, I know,” he hurried on, “Because you’re always...but I was scared. So I took it, and it worked, but then...there were side-effects, and…” he shook his head. “I ended up mostly turning into a tree, but...moral of the story was, I had to trust that people would help me if I asked them. And that I might not have all the facts. So...yeah, trying to keep that in mind more.”

Sabrina stared at him. “Wow- Theo, I had no idea, but- Thanks. Thank you _so_ much, you can’t-” she stopped, and then leaned over and hugged him, hard. “And- We can help, probably,” she said into his shoulder. “I mean, if you still want magic to...I don’t know how, exactly, but Aunt Hilda knows everything there is to know about healing magic, and that’s just...manipulating the body, so it can’t be that different-”

“Thanks,” Theo said, too quickly, pulling back. “Thanks, but...uh...give me a bit of time to get over that before I try again, all right? It was....hairy. I mean, I got my arm chopped off and I barely felt it, because _wood-_ ”

“I promise, that is not going to happen this time.” Sabrina said, squeezing his hands tight in hers, “But okay, it’s your body and...I guess people _do_ keep telling me I can’t fix everything by magic. Though- I could make you a comfort charm? For when you feel like that? They’re good for panic attacks, or…other problems like that.” she smiled, a bit ruefully. “Aunt Hilda made me a pocketful of them before I went to the Academy, if you don’t want to trust my work, but-”

“No- I mean- I’d like it if you made me one.” Theo blushed. “Like I said, you’re the expert here, and...you said you were going away…”

“Just for the summer,” Sabrina reassured him. “I’m not abandoning Greendale. I just...need some time to work things out.” She paused, and then. “So...what’s the book?”

Theo leant across the bed to pick it up. “ _Jude the Obscure_. It’s for English. Principal Wardwell’s taken an indefinite leave of absence, so…”

Sabrina’s gut twisted. “Did- Did they say why? Or-”

“I don’t know.” Theo shrugged. “I mean...I know Uncle Jesse wasn’t...that he died after…maybe possession just...does that to you.”

“Or maybe I screwed up the exorcism,” Sabrina said bleakly. “I don’t- No witch in history had ever even _tried_ one before, I can’t know-”

“Hey.” Theo caught her hand again. “You...you did your best. You were trying to save him. You _did_ save him. I’m not...whatever that thing was, it was hurting him. And that place they were going to send him…wherever he is, it can’t be worse than that.”

Sabrina...still wasn’t sure about that. But she’d take it. She wasn’t sure she deserved this much faith in her, but she was so, so desperately glad that she had it.

There was the creak of a floorboard from outside, just out of sight of the door, and they both looked around in time to see Roz and Harvey, standing there looking uncomfortable.

“...when did you guys get here?” Theo asked, blinking. 

“Just now,” Harvey said, squinting. “Were you two-”

“Would it be any of your business-?” Sabrina started.

Theo interrupted her. “We were just talking.”

“What about?”

“Nothing,” Sabrina said quickly. “Just...school stuff. You’re reading _Jude the Obscure_?” The last thing she wanted was to bring the whole fight over the comfort charms back up.

“...yeah,” Roz said slowly. “Yeah. I’m halfway through it.”

Harvey shrugged. “Haven’t started it yet.”

There was another long, awkward pause as they all tried to find something to say, and then Sabrina bit the bullet.

“So...Lucifer said it might be possible for you to visit, over the summer. If- If you want.”

They stared at her.

“...to visit...in LA?” Theo repeated.

“Yeah.”

Harvey was gawking at her. “Why- Why would he do that?”

“A...show of good faith, I guess,” Sabrina said awkwardly. “Since you’re all so worried he’ll do something terrible to me. Ambrose and Prudence are coming at some point too, I think. I know it’s expensive,” she added, “But he’s offering to pay, if you-”

“I don’t think my dad would let me,” Roz said, frowning. “I mean...no offence, Sabrina, but LA? It’s a big city, and staying above - you said he owns a _nightclub_?”

“Yeah,” Sabrina grinned. “Lux. But it’s fine, it’s a piano bar - how wild can one of those get?”

“Mine...probably won’t go for it either,” Harvey admitted. “I mean...Kinkle men don’t take charity, Dad always says-”

Harvey’s dad also said that his AP art classes had been a waste of time and that he was a weakling for not wanting a job in the mines like his father and brother and grandfather before him. That somehow, letting Sabrina be the one who got into fights with bullies for him made Harvey less than a man. She’d liked Harvey so much better before he’d started listening to what his dad had to say. It was a traitorous thought, but she couldn’t un-think it.

“Mine...might,” Theo said awkwardly. “I mean...I’ve never left Greendale, so…might be a bit nervous and...LA. I mean…”

“None of you have to come,” Sabrina said quickly. “But if you do, or...or if you need to get me back for something...the offer’s open. And- and I would like to have backup just in case.”

It wasn’t that she thought Lucifer had any particularly nefarious plans in mind, she told herself. But she hadn’t thought that about Nick or Lilith either.

A long pause, and then Harvey nodded.

“...I think I might be able to talk Dad around. Maybe- Maybe pass it out as a talent scouting thing for basketball…”

“Art school interviews?” Sabrina suggested. “There’s supposed to be a really good arts program at UCLA?”

She remembered that much from those long afternoons looking up art schools with Harvey and daydreaming about the future. She hadn’t expected to leave Greendale then, not with the coven to tie her here. She’d been worried, even then, that Harvey leaving Greendale would mean the end for them, that she was the girl next door, not the forever girl. But she remembered the way Harvey’s eyes had lit up talking about these places. Basketball never made him beam like that.

Harvey shrugged. “...no way my dad would let me go all the way across the country just for that,” he said, sounding just a little pained.

“Me too,” Roz said quickly. “If you need help-”

“I’m not expecting to,” Sabrina said quickly. “Just...this’ll be the longest I’ve ever been away from home. We can call and write, but...it won’t be the same as being here.”

There was a moment’s uncomfortable silence, and then Theo said.

“...Sabrina...are you sure you want to go?”

Sabrina nodded quickly. “Of course. I mean...it was my idea, but…still a little nervous.I mean... _I_ haven’t been out of Greendale since I was a baby either.”

“And you really want your first trip away to be going to LA with the Devil?” Harvey demanded.

Sabrina sighed. “Like I keep telling you...he’s...it’s not just that he’s my dad. I mean, if Baphomet had turned out to be my father, I still wouldn't've gone along with him or gone anywhere with him. I just- I don’t know. I like him. I...wouldn’t actually mind having him as part of the family.” It would be nice to have someone who was broadly on her side in arguments about tradition, for one thing. “And...I do kinda want to see more of the world. Meet people who aren’t just...not that there’s anything wrong with Greendale, but…” she bit her lip. “I mean...we just saved the world. All of us. Don’t you want to see a bit more of it?”

“Yeah,” Harvey said, low and fierce, “Yeah, I do. The rest of us don’t always get that chance.”

“I’m trying to _share_ it with you!” Sabrina snapped. “Look….I know you don’t trust him. You don’t have to. I’m just offering. If not, that’s fine too. I’ll stay in touch either way.”

Roz was chewing on her lip. “...I don’t know, but…when are you leaving?”

“Day after tomorrow,” Sabrina told her. “That’s as soon as Dad- as Lucifer could find a flight.” Or at least, a flight willing to let her bring Salem along in first-class.

“So soon?” Roz asked. “I thought...isn’t your coven sort of…”

“Gone?” Sabrina supplied. “That’s...part of why. They can’t- With me around, and now everyone knows why Father Blackwood did it...I’m just a reminder that if I weren’t here, maybe….maybe everyone else would be.”

Harvey was already shaking his head. “You can’t- They can’t blame you for some- some _psycho_ deciding to murder his entire church…”

“They can.” Sabrina shrugged. “I...I was already pushing him before the Apocalypse got started. If I hadn’t…”

“If you hadn’t, he’d still be a goddamn _monster_!” Harvey snapped. “I mean - you told us what he did to your Aunt Zelda, do you think he was just going to stop?”

Sabrina glanced down. “...I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just...every time they look at me, they see the reason their families are dead.”

There had been children in the coven. Young ones, too young for Unholy Communion. Apparently Father Blackwood had insisted that they be invited to the ceremony too. None had survived.

Looking around at their faces, she knew they didn’t - couldn’t - understand. It wasn’t their fault, but...they’d never been introduced to the coven, had barely met Nick, even, they didn’t know...any of it, really. For all the bad experiences Sabrina had had with her coven, and there was no end of those...there had been good times too. Maybe not as many, but...they were all over now, good times and bad, and whatever the new coven looked like, she didn’t know what resemblance, if any, it would bear to the old.

Theo sucked in a breath. “That’s...I’m so sorry, Sabrina-”

Sabrina couldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s...the way things are.” Even if it wasn’t her fault, it had happened because of her, and- She knew she bore no real responsibility, but...if she had been anywhere but Greendale, this would never have happened at all.

“What are you even going to do in LA?” Harvey asked, sounding somewhere between sullen and resigned. “Even _if_ Lucifer can be trusted - which is a pretty big ‘if’-!”

“Yes, you’ve said that.”

“And you’re ignoring it!”

“Yes,” Sabrina said, meeting Harvey’s eyes squarely. “I am. If I’m wrong, you can say you told me so once I get out of there. But you won’t, because I’m not.”

“You can’t know that!” Harvey exploded. “You can’t- How do you know he’s not just-”

“Harvey’s right,” Roz put in. “I...I don’t like this, Sabrina.”

Sabrina threw up her hands. “What do you want, exactly? Because….please don’t take this the wrong way, but...my relationship with my father isn’t exactly any of your business.”

“Like mine wasn’t any of yours?” Harvey snapped back.

Sabrina went still.

“...that was different,” she said, through stiff lips. “He was- He’d have killed you, if things kept on the way they were-”

“What, and you don’t think that’s a possibility here?” Harvey demanded. 

Roz and Theo shared a look. 

“...Harvey, don’t-” Roz started.

“What?” Harvey said, his head snapping around. “You don’t trust him any more than I do!”

“No, I don’t, but…” Roz bit her lip. “...again, no offence to Sabrina, but when has telling her not to do something _ever_ worked? For anyone?”

Sabrina scowled at her. “I’m sitting right here! And it’s not- I trust him. And- I just trust him. He’s been...nice. And _he’s_ never hurt me, which is more than can be said for-”

“Guys,” Theo interrupted. “Can we just. Cool it. For a second. We’re...we’re all sorry to see Sabrina go, can we agree on that?”

“Yeah,” Roz said, a little too brightly. “Yeah...we’re...you know we’re just worried, right?”

“I know.” Sabrina shifted. “And I…I’m glad you care that much, but really, guys, it’s going to be fine! Look, I’ll call you all the second we get to LA, and email every day until I get back, all right? If I stop suddenly, or I start sounding brainwashed, you can take advantage of that open invitation to come visit and rescue me.”

“...from literal Satan?” Theo asked, wide-eyed. “I mean….we’re good, but...we didn’t even really do anything during this apocalypse…”

Sabrina paused. “...might want to ask my aunts for help,” she conceded. “But...yeah. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have watching my back.”

She didn’t think she was imagining the relief on Roz’s face, or the way Harvey sat up a little straighter at that. And it was- it was good, to know that they were as unsettled by all the fighting as she had been. They’d never fought like this before this year. Now it seemed everything was bubbling up at once.

“We’ll be right there,” Roz said, reaching over to take Sabrina’s hand. “All of us. Right, guys?”

“Right,” Theo agreed. “I mean...I might come anyway.”

“I’d be glad to see you all either way,” Sabrina said quickly. “Dad’s promised to show me the sights, but he’s got the club and also his...police consulting thing.” She grinned. “Maybe by the time you get there, _I’ll_ be able to show _you_ around.”

Harvey was looking at her strangely.

“...you’re calling him ‘Dad’ now?” he asked.

Sabrina froze. She hadn’t even realised she was doing it, that time.

“Well,” she managed, trying for equilibrium. “He _is_ my dad. I mean...Edward Spellman’s always going to be my father, but…” but he’d never had the chance to be her _dad_. And that wasn’t anyone’s fault but Father Blackwood’s for bringing their plane down, but that was the way it was. Lucifer had that chance. More than that, he seemed to want that chance. And Sabrina was willing to give it to him.

“Yeah, but…”

“You _have_ only known the guy a few days,” Theo said awkwardly.

Sabrina shrugged. There didn’t seem to be anything she could say to that. It wasn’t wrong, it was just...not quite the whole story either. He hadn’t been her dad before that evening sitting out listening to him tell her about murderous yoga teachers and desperate attempts to save his club from getting demolished and about his detective, for whom he was apparently more than willing to play sidekick in a way no man she’d ever known had been. Before he’d listened to her greatest mistakes and not judged her, not condemned her, even though he admitted that was what he’d been created to do, just held her until she stopped shaking and promised that she would never see Hell if he had to drag her out with his own hands, and then offered to help friends of hers that he didn’t even like, because it mattered to her, which meant it mattered to him.

“It’s...been an eventful few days,” she said at last. “And...I mean...it’s not like there’s much competition for the role.”

Now, if it had been someone claiming to be her _mother_ , that would’ve been quite a different story. Sabrina had three of those already, and that was quite enough for anyone. Though it sounded like there might be a stepmother in the offing if the look on Lucifer’s face when he talked about his detective was any indication. Sabrina still wasn’t sure what she thought about that, but she could hold off on making a decision until she actually _met_ the famous Chloe Decker.

There was another long, awkward pause. 

“So,” Sabrina asked after a second, a bit too brightly. “Who- Who’s going to be principal now Miss Wardwell’s stepped down?”

“I don’t know,” Roz admitted, after sharing a look with Harvey. “They haven’t decided yet. It was…a bit sudden. They’re saying she has amnesia or something? Which I guess is one way to cover up the possession thing, but…”

“I...don’t know if we should tell her what really happened,” Sabrina said awkwardly. “I mean...would she even believe us if we did?”

The others exchanged looks.

“...I mean, she does know a lot about the history of the witch-hunts here…” Theo said, wavering. 

“Witch-hunts that she always told us were just...hysteria and people persecuting each other to find a scapegoat for natural misfortunes,” Roz reminded her. “I don’t...maybe it’s better not to know. I mean...she was possessed by a demon for six _months_! Look what just a few weeks did to your uncle…”

Theo flinched.

“I’d still want to know, if it were me,” Harvey said, unexpectedly. “Especially if- if they made me do something...something wrong.”

“Why? Just- Just to feel guilt over something that wasn’t even your fault?” Sabrina shook her head. “I just...I don’t know. This must all be so weird for her…”

Roz grimaced. “‘Weird’ is an understatement. Imagine just...waking up one day to find that suddenly your whole life has changed and you don’t remember any of it.”

Sabrina’s skin crawled at the reminder.

Miss Wardwell had invited Sabrina to her house once, after finding her in the woods and assuming she was lost and chilled through, though she was generally so private. Sabrina still remembered it - the horseshoe over the door, and the crucifix nailed up over her fireplace. Why hadn’t she noticed them going missing, after Lilith took her? Had she really been so blind? So eager to believe she might have this secret in common with her favourite teacher that she’d ignored everything she already knew?

“I...I don’t know that telling her is going to help, though,” she said awkwardly. “I mean…” look at how all of you reacted, she half wanted to say, but that wasn’t right either. She hadn’t told Harvey until just before Tommy had to die a second time, when nobody could take it well, and Roz and Theo had been nothing but accepting...at first. She let the sentence trail off, and shrugged.

“You think she might not believe us?” Harvey asked.

“I don’t know.” Sabrina bit her lip. “I mean...it’s...a pretty wild story, isn’t it? Demonic possession, and…” her stomach turned over. “And we’d have to explain what must’ve happened to her fiance. Do you- Do you think Lilith did it?”

“Who else?” Harvey said darkly.

All Sabrina had ever found of him had been the rib Lilith had used to make her creature, the one that had nearly killed Sabrina in her bath after the mandrake. It had been the last straw that let her find out who she was really dealing with. She was trying not to think what Lilith might have done with the rest of him.

They were all silent for a few long moments, and Sabrina knew what they were trying not to say. If Adam’s disappearance became a police matter, as it probably would sooner or later, would Miss Wardwell be blamed for Lilith’s crimes? And if she was, what could any of them do about it?

“...I mean...we’ll tell her if it comes to it,” Roz said dubiously, “But...I mean. By the time you’ll be back, it’ll be the start of junior year. If it hasn’t come up by then...it probably isn’t going to.”

“Right,” Sabrina agreed, shamefully relieved that, this once, it wasn’t going to be her decision. “And...you never know. With all this Baphomet crap done with, and me on the other side of the country, you might be able to have a halfway normal summer.”

Harvey cringed, a little theatrically. “You just jinxed us!”

“That’s not an actual thing!”

“Denying the jinx only increases its power!”

Sabrina smirked at him. “What could possibly go wrong?” she said, teasing, and Harvey groaned. It felt- good. Normal. The way nothing had felt since the start of sophomore year, when her Dark Baptism had been looming in front of them and she’d felt every trip to the movies or Doctor Cerberus’s bookstore and every day at school as if it was going to be her last.

“It won’t,” Theo said, a little shakily. “It won’t be a normal summer, without you here.”

Sabrina caught his hand. “I know. But it can still be a good one, and - hey, we’ve survived this before. Remember that one summer Roz went off to Bible camp?”

“I definitely do,” Roz said, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “And I guess...if we can’t talk you out of it…” she leant across the bed to hug Sabrina. “Call us the _moment_ he tries anything funny,” she said into Sabrina’s ear. “I mean it. We’ll be right there, even if we have to ask your aunts to teleport us.”   
“It’s...a bit far for that,” Sabrina said awkwardly. “But...thanks, really.”

“We said we’d have your back,” Harvey reminded her. “I mean...we were willing to go up against all the powers of Hell for you once...seems a bit stupid to back out now.” 

“Especially if we get a trip to LA out of it,” Theo added, with a giddy, incredulous spurt of laughter. “I mean...we’d come anyway, but…”

“No, I get it. I’m excited too.” Sabrina couldn’t help the smile that broke out across her face then. “I mean...terrified, but...should I try and get a guidebook or something? I mean…I have no idea what there is to _do_ there, even…but...I kinda want to find out.”


End file.
